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THE  CHRISTMAS  BELLS, 

And  oilier  Poems.    By  the  Author  of  "  Constance,"  "  Virginia,"  &c.     18mo. 
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/ 


THE 


(DMMHOTMA^ 


3    Salt  of  (jolg    Sift*: 


AND  OTHER  POEMS. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "CONSTANCE,5'  "VIRGINIA,"  ETC. 


ToV 


Come  here  thy  soul  to  tune, 
Here  set  thy  feeble  chant ; 

Here,  if  at  all  beneath  the  moon, 
Is  holy  David's  haunt. 

Keble. 


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Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1841,  by 
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In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New- York. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS,  JOHN  F.  TROW,  PRINTER. 


So 

THE     TEACHERS     AND    PUPILS 

OF 

THE  ASTORIA  FEMALE  INSTITUTE, 

THIS    VOLUME 

IS 

AFFECTIONATELY    INSCRIBED, 

AS 

A    MEMENTO    OF    MANY    HAPPY    AND 

PROFITABLE    HOURS 

SPENT   IN    THEIR    SOCIETY. 


PREFACE 


The  author  of  the  following  poems  claims  for  them 
no  higher  merit  than  that  of  preserving  a  simple 
record  of  feelings  which  have  cheered  his  own  heart  in 
many  an  hour  of  despondency,  and  relieved  the  weari- 
ness of  many  a  day  of  toil.  That  they  may  be  in  like 
manner  soothing  and  profitable  to  those  in  whose  hands 
they  may  chance  to  fall,  is  all  that  he  can  hope  for. 
Should  such  prove  to  be  the  case  in  any  instance,  he  will 
feel  himself  more  than  repaid.  To  the  character  of  a 
poet,  in  its  true  sense,  he  has  never  dared  to  aspire.     He 


b  PREFACE. 

believes  that  poetic  genius  is  one  of  the  rarest  gifts  of 
God,  and  he  would  not  vainly  affect  the  possession  of 
endowments  which  have  been  denied  him. 

A  considerable  portion  of  the  contents  of  the  volume 
has  never  appeared  in  print.  Many  of  the  smaller 
pieces  have  been  published  from  time  to  time,  in  various 
journals  and  magazines  ;  some  of  which  have  been 
received  with  a  degree  of  favor  beyond  their  merits. 
Whether  the  present  collection  as  a  whole  shall  be  hon- 
""  ored  with  the  same  kind  reception,  is  a  question  which 
time  must  determine. 

The  leading  poem  in  the  volume  was  written,  for  the 
most  part,  daring  the  season  whose  enjoyments  and 
happy  influences  it  is  designed  to  commemorate.  The 
Christmas  hymn,  introduced  in  the  fourth  part,  is  from  a 
collection  of  religious  poetry  by  Henry  Vaughan,  an 
English  writer  of  the  seventeenth  century.     The  plan  of 


PREFACE.  / 

the  poem,  as  now  published,  was  suggested  by  the  peru- 
sal of  Washington  Irving's  delightful  essays  on  the 
Christmas  season  in  the  Sketch  Book. 

The  author  fears  that  in  some  instances  he  has  been 
too  little  regardful  of  what  Jean  Paul  calls  the  "  polish 
and  labor  UmcB  which  contents  reviewers."  While  he 
would  not  insult  his  readers  by  presuming  to  offer  any 
apology  for  negligence,  he  trusts  that  the  circumstances 
under  which  he  has  sometimes  been  compelled  to  write, 
will  enlist  their  indulgence,  for  any  occasional  deficien- 
cies in  harmony  of  versification  or  purity  of  diction.  Be- 
yond this  he  asks  no  indulgence. 

Astoria  Institute, 
Festival  of  St.  Andrew,  1841. 


CONTESTS, 


Page 

Invocation        .         .        .        .        .        .        »        .11 

The  Christmas  Bells 19 

Mount  Sinai 54 

The  Bishop  at  Rest 59 

The  Church  of  England 62 

Hymn  of  Christ's  Advent 67 

Ode  for  Epiphany 70 

Missionary  Hymn 76 

Dirge  of  the  Flowers 78 

The  Spirit's  Destiny 81 

Twilight  Contemplation 93 

St.  Paul  at  Athens 96 

To  the  Stars '    .         .         .104 

Sunbeams  in  March 107 

The  First  Bird  in  Lent 108 

The  Old  Elm-Tree Ill 

The  Early  Dead 115 

Glimpses  of  Childhood 118 


10 


CONTENTS 


Page 

Augustus  Foster  Lyde 

.     122 

Father  of  Lights 

125 

Morning's  Light  is  Streaming 

.     127 

The  Shades  of  Night  Retire 

128 

The  Lark  is  Up 

.     129 

Bright  in  his  Course  on  High 

130 

Evening  Parting  Hymn          .... 

.     133 

The  Heart's  Sincere  Devotion    . 

134 

Evening  Hymn 

.     136 

For  a  Botanical  Excursion 

138 

Lake  George  at  Midnight        .... 

.     141 

Morning 

143 

Aldebaran,  a  Song  of  Time's  Changes  . 

.     146 

Forward 

158 

M  issionary  Warfare 

.     162 

Bishop  White      ...... 

169 

The  Death  of  Bishop  Hobart 

.      172 

Dirge 

176 

Athanasia 

.     178 

John  Wiclif 

182 

Madeline:  A  Reminiscence  of  a  Library 

.     186 

Scene  in  the  Alhambra        .... 

194 

The  Gheber's  Dying  Hymn    .... 

.     213 

Sonnet 

220 

INVOCATION. 


From  orient  climes,  renowned  in  fame, 
With  hearts  of  praise  and  offerings  meet. 

Led  by  a  star  the  sages  came, 
Saviour  !  to  worship  at  thy  feet. 


Treasures  of  shining  gold,  with  skill 
Of  cunning  art  divinely  wrought, 

Myrrh  which  Arabia's  plains  distil, 

And  fragrant  frankincense  they  brought. 


No  radiant  gems,  or  golden  store, 
No  wealth  of  human  art  we  bring: 

We  may  not  on  thine  altars  pour 
Incense  nor  costly  offering  : 


12 


INVOCATION 


Yet  ours  like  theirs,  the  gift  of  love, 
Of  captive  minds  and  thankful  hearts, 

Which  seeks  thy  blessing  from  above 
On  all  the  blessing  it  imparts. 


THE   CHRISTMAS  BELLS: 


A   TALE    OF   HOLY    TIDE, 


IN  SIX  PARTS. 


Once  again  the  festal  morning, 

Our  salvation's  pledge,  is  come ; 
Hark  !  the  bells,  with  timely  warning, 

Brethren,  call  us  far  from  home  ; 
Far  from  home  in  thought  to  wander 

To  Jud^a's  holy  shore, 
Bethlehem's  storied  scenes  to  ponder, 

Bethlehem's  caverned  grot  explore. 

Christmas  Carols. 


ISTRODUCTIOff 


••  While  I  lay  musing  upon  my  pillow,  I  heard  the 
sound  of  little  feet  pattering  outside  of  the  door,  and  a 
whispering  consultation.  Presently  a  choir  of  small 
voices  chanted  forth  an  old  Christmas  carol,  the  burden 
of  which  was : 

(  Rejoice,  our  Saviour  he  was  born 
On  Christmas  day  in  the  morning.' 


"How  delightfully  the  imagination,  when  wrought 
upon  by  these  moral  influences,  turns  every  thing  to 
melody  and  beauty  !  The  very  crowing  of  the  cock, 
heard  sometimes  in  the  profound  repose  of  the  country, 
'  telling  the  night  watches  to  his  feathery  dames,'  was 
_rht  by  the  common  people  to  announce  the  ap- 
proach of  this  sacred  festival. 


'Some  say  that  ever,  'gainst  that  season  comes 

i  our  Saviour's  birth  is  celebrated, 
This  bird  of  dawning  singeth  all  night  long.' 


16  INTRODUCTION. 


"  Amidst  the  general  call  to  happiness,  the  bustle  of 
the  spirit  and  stir  of  the  affections,  which  prevail  at  this 
period,  what  bosom  can  remain  insensible  ?  It  is  in- 
deed the  season  of  regenerated  feeling — the  season  for 
kindling  not  merely  the  fire  of  hospitality  in  the  hall,  but 
the  general  flame  of  charity  in  the  heart. 

"  The  scene  of  early  love  again  rises  green  to  memory 
beyond  the  sterile  waste  of  years,  and  the  idea  of  home 
fraught  with  the  fragrance  of  home-dwelling  joys,  rean- 
mates  the  drooping  spirit,  as  the  Arabian  breeze  will 
sometimes  waft  the  freshness  of  the  distant  fields  to  the 
weary  pilgrim  of  the  desert." 

The  Sketch  Book. 


THE  CHRISTMAS  BELLS, 


All  through  the  wintry  heaven  and  chill  night  air, 
In  music  and  in  light  thou  davvnest  on  our  prayer. 

Keble. 


What  sudden  blaze  of  song 

Spreads  o'er  th'  expanse  of  heav'n? 
In  waves  of  light  it  thrills  along, 
The  angelic  signal  given — 
"  Glory  to  God" — from  yonder  central  fire 
Flows  out  the  echoing  lay  beyond  the  starry  quire  ; 


Like  circles  widening  round 

Upon  a  clear  blue  river, 
Orb  after  orb,  the  wondrous  sound 
Is  echoed  on  for  ever : 
"  Glory  to  God  on  high,  on  earth  be  peace, 
And  love  towards  men  of  love — salvation  and  release." 

Keble. 


THE  CHRISTMAS  BELLS, 


ST  PAP.T. 


HOW    THE    BELLS    RANG    AT    CHRISTMAS    TIDE. 


I. 


The  bells — the  bells — the  Christmas  bells. 

How  merrily  they  ring  ! 
As  if  they  felt  the  joy  they  tell 

To  every  human  thing. 
The  silvery  tones,  o'er  vale  and  hill, 

Are  swelling  soft  and  clear, 
As,  wave  on  wave,  the  tide  of  sound 

Fills  the  bright  atmosphere. 


20  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS, 


II. 


The  bells — the  merry  Christmas  bells, 

They're  ringing  in  the  morn  ! 
They  ring,  when  in  the  eastern  sky 

The  golden  light  is  born  ] 
They  ring,  as  sunshine  tips  the  hills, 

And  gilds  the  village  spire — 
When,  through  the  sky,  the  sovereign  sun 

Rolls  his  full  orb  of  fire. 


III. 

The  Christmas  bells — the  Christmas  bells, 

How  merrily  they  ring  ! 
To  weary  hearts  a  pulse  of  joy, 

A  kindlier  life  they  bring. 
The  poor  man  on  bis  couch  of  straw, 

The  rich,  on  downy  bed, 
Hail  the  glad  sounds,  as  voices  sweet 

Of  angels  overhead. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  21 


IV. 

The  bells — the  silvery  Christmas  bells, 

O'er  many  a  mile  they  sound! 
And  household  tones  are  answering"  them 

In  thousand  homes  around. 
Voices  of  childhood,  blithe  and  shrill, 

With  youth's  strong  accents  blend, 
And  manhood's  deep  and  earnest  tones 

With  woman's  praise  ascend. 


The  bells — the  solemn  Christmas  bells, 

They're  calling  us  to  prayer  ; 
And  hark,  the  voice  of  worshippers 

Floats  on  the  morning  air. 
Anthems  of  noblest  praise  there'll  be, 

And  glorious  hymns  to-day, 
Te  Deums  loud — and  glorias  : 

Come,  to  the  church — away. 


THE  SECOND  PAHT. 

HOW    THE    CHRISTMAS    BELLS    CHEERED    THE    OLD   MAN'S 
HEART. 


I. 


An  old  man  sat,  that  Christmas  morn, 

Before  his  chamber  fire, 
Watching  the  shadows  on  the  wall 

Before  the  light  retire. 
His  furrowed  cheek  was  pale  and  wan, 

And  dim  his  sunken  eye  : 
The  old  man,  in  his  loneliness, 

Thought  it  were  good  to  die. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  23 


II. 


No  voice  of  children,  glad  and  free, 

No  blessed  household  tone, 
No  hearty  Christmas  greetings,  thrilled 

Within  that  chamber  lone. 
The  weary  moments,  one  by  one, 

Passed,  as  on  leaden  wing, 
In  that  deserted  house,  he  was 

The  only  living  thing. 


III. 


His  soul  was  busy  in  the  past, 

The  bright,  the  mournful  past, 
And  strange  thoughts  on  his  memory 

Came  crowding,  thick  and  fast. 
But  through  them  all,  like  autumn  winds 

Through  leafless  woods  that  roll, 
There  swept  that  deep,  pervading  grief, 

Which  haunts  the  lonely  soul. 


24  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS, 


IV. 

The  lonely  soul — and  such  was  he, 

A  weary,  faint  old  man — 
Condemned  in  bitterness  to  count 

The  last  links  of  life's  span  $ 
The  iron  links, — ^for  one  by  one, 

Had  dropped  the  links  of  gold, 
And  the  great  past's  ingulfing  sea 

Darkly  above  them  rolled. 


Soft  through  the  winter-morning  air 

The  matin-peal  he  hears ) 
He  hears — -he  lifts  his  wrinkled  brow, 

And  faintly  smiles,  through  tears. 
There's  music  in  those  Christmas  bells, 

Blithe  music,  e'en  for  him  ; 
The  present  seems  not  wholly  dark, 

The  past  not  wholly  dim. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  25 


VI. 

Hast  thou  not  heard,  when  autumn  hours 

With  stars  and  dews  were  bright, 
Low  mumurings  on  the  mellow  air 

Float  through  the  livelong  night  1 — 
Sounds,  as  it  seemed,  of  early  spring, 

Or  summer's  greenest  reign, 
Slumb'ring  through  lapse  of  autumn  days, 

And  woke,  by  night,  again  1 


VII. 

Such  sounds  were  in  the  old  man's  ears, 

Such  breathings  in  his  heart: 
Founts  of  life's  spring  were  all  unsealed 

As  't  were,  by  magic  art ; 
And  feelings,  hopes,  that  slumbered  there 

Through  the  long  lapse  of  years, 
Started  to  vig'rous  life  again, 

And  gushed  in  joyful  tears. 


26 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS. 


VIII. 

0,  well  is  it  with  heart  of  man, 

When  things  like  these  have  power 
To  fling  across  life's  shadowed  track 

The  hues  of  life's  young  hour  : 
When  music,  fragrance,  household  tones 

From  early  hope  and  joy, 
May  thus  come  back  to  nerve  the  man 

With  vigor  of  the  boy. 


THE  THIRD  PAP.T. 


HOW  THE  OLD  CLOCK  ANSWERED  THE  CHRISTMAS    BELLS. 


I. 


Thex  brighter  gleamed  the  Christmas  fire 

Within  that  chamber  old  ; 
The  sunlight  through  the  curtain  fell 

In  streams,  like  molten  gold. 
And  here  and  there,  a  single  beam 

On  the  soft  carpet  lay, 
Like  a  bright,  silent  spirit,  sent 

To  watch  with  him  that  day. 


28  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS. 


II. 

Dim  in  the  corner-shade  there  stood 

A  clock,  encas'd  with  oak  ! 
For  years  on  years  't  had  marked  the  time 

With  harsh,  unvarying  stroke. 
Now  faintly,  as  through  dust  of  years, 

It  struck  the  hour  again  ; 
The  old  man  looked  into  its  face, 

It  smiled  upon  his  pain. 


III. 

In  childhood's  sunny  hours  how  oft 

Had  he,  in  wonder,  stood, 
And  listened  to  its  iron  tongue 

In  rapt,  half-fearful  mood  ! 
How  oft,  at  shadowy  dusk,  had  he 

His  trembling  bosom  press'd 
In  fear  and  awe,  as  broke  that  sound, 

Close  to  his  mother's  breast  ! 


THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS.  29' 


IV. 

How  oft,  when  weary  at  his  task 

At  vespers,  noon  or  prime, 
Had  that  old  clock  befriended  him, 

In  boyhood's  frolic  time  ! 
How  oft,  awaked  by  frightful  dreams, 

The  midnight  spectres  grim 
Had  fled  before  its  honest  clang 

As  sprites  from  priestly  hymn  ! 


Through  storm  and  sunshine,  stanch  and  true 

That  clock  had  told  the  hour, 
Responsive  to  the  village-bell 

Within  the  gray  church-tower  ; 
The  village-bell  wras  swinging  yet 

Within  that  tower  gray, 
And  the  same  sound  replied  to  it 

As  in  his  youthful  day. 


►  30  THE     CHRISTMAS      BELLS. 


VI. 

What  vision  dims  the  old  man's  eye  1 — 

What  sees  he  through  his  tears  1 — 
Through  life's  long  vista  he  beholds 

The  green,  the  sunlit  years  : — 
Mid  sounds  of  merry  bells — mid  sounds 

From  the  deep  organ  poured, 
A  young  bride  at  the  altar  stands, 

He  hears  the  plighted  word  ! 


VII. 

His  was  the  bridal  kiss — the  love 

Plighted  with  holy  words — 
The  melody  of  early  vows, 

Like  vernal  notes  of  birds — 
His  the  fond  trusting  glance,  half-veil'd 

And  trembling  while  't  was  given, 
As  evening  sunlight,  melting  through 

The  deepening  blue  of  heaven. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  'M 

VIII. 

No  more — no  more.     O  love  !  0  death  ! 

A  bridal  wreath  ye  twine, 
Of  cypress,  bay  and  amaranth, 

Lilac  and  eglantine.* 
And  through  the  cold  gray  night  of  time 

How  dim  the  light  of  love  ! 
Just  seen  and  quenched,  like  that  of  stars 

When  night-storms  rage  above. 


IX. 

Yet  is  the  dream  not  all  of  gloom ; — 

How  passing  sweet  to  feel 
That  death,  for  her,  enshrined  for  aye 

The  light  it  could  not  steal. 
How  sweet  to  think  of  whisper'd  words 

And  signs  of  triumph  given, 
Bringing  around  the  bed  of  death 

The  very  light  of  heaven. 

'■nis  of  love,  death,  fond  remembrance,  and  immortal  life. 


32  THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS, 


The  old  man  weeps  ; — and  well  he  may  !- 

Such  luxury  of  grief 
Brings  to  the  sad  o'erburdened  heart 

Composure  and  relief. 
What  though  he  now  must  tread  alone 

Life's  dark,  declining  way, 
There's  hope  within  his  heart,  and  faith 

Illumes  life's  closing  day. 


XL  & 

Then  ring  once  more,  ye  Christmas  bells  ! 

Old  clock!  reply  again  ; 
From  the  sweet  mournful  past  ye  bring 

A  sad  yet  welcome  strain. 
The  Christmas  morn  is  blest  to  him 

With  memories  like  these, 
And  sad  thoughts  roll  away,  like  leaves 

Before  th'  autumnal  breeze. 


THE  FOURTH  PART. 


HOW    THE    CHILDREN    SANG    THE    CHRISTMAS    HYMN. 


I. 


Then  brighter  shone  the  Christmas  fire 

Within  that  chamber  old ! 
And  softer  through  the  curtain  fell 

The  sunlight's  molten  gold. 
And  purer  seemed  the  ray  that  there 

On  the  soft  carpet  lay, 
Like  a  bright,  silent  spirit,  sent 

To  watch  with  him  that  day 
3 


34  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS, 


II. 

Hark  ! — voices  on  the  wintry  air 

Are  floating  blithe  and  clear  ; — 
Voices  of  children  singing  hymns 

Familiar  to  his  ear. 
They're  singing  to  the  holy  morn 

Uprisen  in  the  east : 
"  Glory  to  God  on  high,"  they  sing, 

"  On  earth  good-will  and  peace." 


III. 

It  is  the  very  hymn  he  heard 

In  childhood's  hours  of  joy; 
The  sweet  hymn  he  was  wont  to  sing, 

A  careless,  happy  boy ! 
What  blessed  household  memories 

Those  hallowed  words  recall ! 
What  old  and  dear  festivities 

Of  his  paternal  hall ! 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  35 


IV. 

The  loved,  the  dead  ! — are  they  not  here 

Invoked  by  that  sweet  strain  ] 
The  friends  that  then  around  him  sat, 

Are  they  not  here  again  1 
The  hearts,  the  warm,  true  hearts  that  beat 

Responsive  to  his  own, 
To  fancy's  ear  they're  beating  yet — 

He  is  no  more  alone. 


And  soft  and  clear  on  the  morning  breeze 
The  hymn  arose,  in  words  like  these  : 


SOLO. 

Awake,  glad  heart !  get  up  and  sing ! 
It  is  the  birth-day  of  thy  king  ! 

Awake !  awake  ! 

The  sun  doth  shake 
Light  from  his  locks,  and  all  the  way 
Breaking  perfumes  doth  spice  the  day. 


36  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS. 


CHORUS    OF    CHILDREN. 

Rejoice,  our  Saviour  he  was  born 
On  Christmas  day  in  the  morning ! 

SOLO. 

Awake  !  awake  !  hark,  the  wood  sings  ; 
Winds  whisper,  and  the  busy  springs 

A  concert  make  : 

Awake !  awake ! 
Man  is  their  high  priest,  and  should  rise 
To  offer  up  their  sacrifice. 

CHORUS. 

Rejoice,  &c. 

SOLO. 

I  would  I  were  some  bird  or  s*ar, 
Fluttering  in  woods,  or  lifted  far 

Above  this  inn 

And  road  of  sin  ' 
Then  either  bird  or  star  should  be 
Shining  or  singing  still  to  thee. 


1 


THE     CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  37 


CHORUS. 

Rejoice,  &c. 

SOLO. 

I  would  I  had  in  my  best  part 

Fit  rooms  for  thee  !  or  that  my  heart 

Were  as  clean  as 

Thy  man  ere  r  was  ! 
But  I  am  all  filth  and  obscene, 
Yet,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make  me  clean. 

CHORUS. 

Rejoice,  &c. 

SOLO. 

Sweet  Jesus  will  then  ;  let  no  more 
This  leper  soil  and  haunt  thy  door; 

Cure  him,  cure  him, 

O  release  him  ! 
And  let  once  more,  by  mystic  birth, 
The  Lord  of  life  be  born  on  earth. 

CHORUS. 

Rejoice,  our  Saviour  he  was  born 
On  Christmas  day  in  the  morning. 


38  THE     CHRISTMAS      BELLS. 


The  song  has  ceased  without — within 

Gay  youthful  accents  ring  ; 
"  A  merry  Christmas,  sir,  to  you  ! 

A  Christmas  gift  I  bring!" 
A  light  step  on  the  oaken  stair, 

A  light  step  at  the  door, 
And  then  a  bright  young  creature  stands 

Upon  the  parlor  floor. 


VI. 

"A  merry  Christmas,  sir  !  I've  brought 

Green  vines  from  out  the  wood, 
With  holly  boughs,  and  ivy  leaves, 

And  berries  bright  and  good  : 
Beneath  the  shining  snow  I  found 

This  graceful  Christmas  vine — 
And  see — I've  twined  among  them  all 

That  sweet  wild  rose  of  mine." 


THE     CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  .S9 


VII. 

"  Bless  thee,  my  child,"  the  old  man  said — 

She  knelt  beside  his  chair, 
The  sunlight  on  her  forehead  fell, 

And  on  her  golden  hair. 
11  Bless  thee,  my  child  ! — may  He  who  came 

With  sinful  man  to  dwell, 
As  on  this  day,  of  virgin  born, 

The  Saviour,  shield  thee  well." 


VIII. 

Then  quickly  o'er  the  chamber  walls, 

With  awed  yet  cheerful  mind, 
The  Christmas  wreaths  of  living  green 

With  willing  hand  she  twined. 
The  ancient  portraits,  soiled  and  dim, 

Beneath  the  leaves  grew  bright, 
And  through  his  verdant  drapery 

The  old  clock  smiled  outright. 


40  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS, 


IX. 

'Twas  good  to  see  that  orphan  child 

Smile  on  the  lone  old  man, 
As  to  and  fro,  in  busy  haste, 

With  noiseless  step  she  ran. 
'Twas  good  to  see  how  gleamed  her  eye, 

How  swelled  her  little  heart, 
When  he,  her  benefactor  mild, 

Praised  her  untutored  art. 


X. 


The  generous  heart,  the  open  hand, 

The  gift  of  charity, 
What  rich  returns  they  bring  to  him 

To  soothe  his  misery. 
That  orphan  child  remembers  him, 

Loves  him  with  purest  love, 
For  gratitude  in  that  young  breast 

Sits  brooding,  like  a  dove. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS 


41 


XI. 


Then  ring  once  more,  ye  Christmas  bells ! 

Young  minstrels,  sing  again! 
From  the  sweet  mournful  past  ye  bring 

A  sad  yet  welcome  strain. 
The  Christmas  morn  is  blest  to  him 

With  visitings  like  these  ; 
And  sad  thoughts  roll  away,  like  leaves 

Before  the  autumn  breeze. 


W^ifim  '/"V! 

i^^^j 

bl^P^ 

Sp5 

Sm 

^l  \k 

_^_       C   ] 

ra  ifi-nr 

THE  FIFTH  PART. 


HOW   THE    CHRISTMAS    GREETING    CHEERED    THE    OLD 
man's  HEART. 


I. 


The  bells — the  solemn  Christmas  bells, 

They're  calling  now  to  prayer: 
And  hark  !  the  voice  of  worshippers 

Thrills  on  the  morning  air. 
Anthems  of  highest  praise  there'll  be, 

And  glorious  hymns  to-day, 
Te  Deums  loud,  and  glorias  : 

Come  to  the  church,  and  pray. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  43 


II. 


Then,  strong  of  heart  and  firm  of  limb, 

The  aged  man  arose, 
A  moment  smoothed  his  hoary  locks 

White  as  the  driven  snows — 
A  moment  through  the  casement  looked 

Adown  the  wintry  road, 
Then  went  forth  on  his  lonely  way 

Towards  the  house  of  God. 


III. 

'Tis  service  time !  from  lanes  and  woods 

The  rustic  people  throng — 
The  "common  air  is  musical" 

With  greetings  and  with  song. 
With  deep  and  serious  tones  of  age 

The  tones  of  childhood  blend, 
And  Christmas  carols,  through  the  air 

From  youthful  groups  ascend. 


44  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS. 


IV. 

The  old  man  mingles  in  the  throng — 

He's  known  and  loved  of  all ; 
They  press  to  meet  him  with  kind  words, 

On  this  blithe  festival. 
The  widow's  heart  he's  oft  consoled, 

And  dried  the  orphan's  tears  ; 
And  many  a  poor  man's  load  relieved 

In  dark,  depressing  years. 


V. 


"  A  merry  Christmas,  sir !"  say  some, 

Forgetful  of  his  state  ; 
"  God  bless  you,"  others,  as  around 

In  meek  respect  they  wait. 
Some  strive  to  win  a  passing  word 

As  o'er  the  lawn  they  hie, 
Some  strive  to  catch  a  passing  glance 

Of  his  benignant  eye. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  45 


VI. 


Cheer  up,  old  man  ! — these  humble  ones 

Have  loyal  hearts  and  true, 
Within  each  grateful  bosom  beats 

A  pulse  of  love  for  you  ; 
And  holy  thoughts  are  quick'ning  it 

Upon  this  holy  morn  ; 
Thoughts,  hallowed  by  deep  gratitude 

Unto  the  Virgin-born  ! 


VII. 

Then,  strong  of  heart  and  firm  of  limb, 

The  old  man  went  his  way  5 
He  went  within  the  house  of  God 

And  knelt  him  down  to  pray. 
He  felt  that  God  was  with  him  there  : — 

The  everlasting  arms, 
Were  they  not  folded  round  his  soul 

To  shield  from  care  and  harms  1 


46 


THE     CHRISTMAS     BELLS. 


VIII. 

Then  ring  again,  ye  Christmas  bells  ! 

And  thou,  deep  organ,  sound  ! 
Angelic  voices,  soft  and  low, 

Seem  floating  all  around. 
The  Christmas  morn  is  blest  to  him 

Mid  solemn  strains  like  these, 
And  sad  thoughts  roll  away,  like  leaves 

Before  th'  autumnal  breeze. 


THE  SIXTH  PART. 


HOW    THE    OLD    MAN    FOUND    SOLACE    IN    CHURCH. 


I. 


The  bells — the  solemn  Christmas  bells, 

They're  calling  us  to  prayer  ! 
Voices  of  gathered  worshippers 

Rise  on  the  morning  air. 
Anthems  of  highest  praise  there'll  be, 

And  glorious  hymns  to-day, 
Te  Deums  loud,  and  glorias  : 

Come  to  the  church,  and  pray. 


48  THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS. 


II. 


Enter  ! — "  The  woven  boughs  they  wreath 

Through  all  the  hallowed  fane, 
And  soft  reviving  odors  breathe 

Of  summer's  gentle  reign. 
And  rich  the  ray  of  mild  green  light 

Which,  like  the  emerald's  glow, 
Comes  struggling  through  the  latticed  height 

Upon  the  crowds  below."* 


III. 

In  surplice  white  the  man  of  God 

Within  the  chancel  stands, 
And  there  the  marble  altar  gleams, 

Arrayed  by  holy  hands. 
High  o'er  the  chancel-niche,  amidst 

Its  drapery  of  green, 
The  emblem  of  redeeming  love, 

The  holy  cross,  is  seen. 

*  Rev.  William  Croswell. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  49 


IV. 

There  is  the  white  baptismal  font 

Close  by  the  chancel-rail, 
And  o'er  it  broods  a  single  dove 

With  wings  outstretched  and  pale. 
And  all  around  the  chancel-steps 

Are  children  clothed  in  white, 
With  grave  but  cheerful  looks,  and  eyes 

Bright  in  their  young  delight. 


V. 


With  bended  knee,  and  solemn  prayer, 

They  bow  before  the  Lord  \ 
In  silence,  deep  and  reverent, 

They  hear  the  holy  word. 
In  pious,  fervent  litanies 

They  supplicate  His  grace  ; 
In  deep  thanksgivings  they  extol 

And  celebrate  His  praise. 
4 


50  THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS. 

VI. 

Now  loudly  through  the  temple  arch 

The  old  te  deum  rolls ; — 
Now  faint,  yet  clear,  a  plaintive  strain 

Breathes  peace  to  trusting  souls. 
The  joyful  jubilate  swells 

In  strong,  triumphant  tone, 
And  gloria  patri  gives  the  praise 

To  God,  the  three  in  one. 


VII. 

The  prayers  are  said — the  sermon  o'er, 

A  solemn  silence  reigns : 
How  goldenly  the  noonday  beams 

Stream  through  the  pictured  panes! 
Upon  a  kneeling  throng,  around 

The  altar  steps,  they  fall ; 
The  aged  man  is  kneeling  there, 

His  heart  is  grateful  all. 


THE      CHRIST  MAS. BELLS.  51 


VIII. 

The  emblems  of  Christ's  sacrifice 

Bless' d  by  the  prayerful  word, 
The  body  broken  on  the  cross, 

The  blood  of  his  dear  Lord, 
He  eats — he  drinks — his  soul  is  strong, 

His  conflicts,  doubts  are  o'er  5 
Trembling  with  hope  he  seeks  his  place, 

He  weeps,  he  fears  no  more. 


IX. 


Swell  loud  and  high,  ye  hymns  of  praise  ! 

And  thou,  deep  organ,  sound  ! 
Angelic  voices,  with  your  strains 

Seem  mingling  all  around. 
The  Christmas  morn  is  blest  to  him 

In  services  like  these, 
And  sad  thoughts  roll  away,  like  leaves 

Before  the  vernal  breeze. 


52  THE      CHRISTMAS     BELLS, 


CONCLUSION. 


I. 


The  Christmas  bells,  the  Christmas  bells, 

How  merrily  they  ring  ; 
To  weary  hearts  a  pulse  of  joy, 

A  kindlier  life  they  bring. 
The  silvery  tones,  o'er  vale  and  hill 
.  Are  swelling  soft  and  clear, 
As,  wave  on  wave,  the  tide  of  sound 

Fills  the  bright  atmosphere. 


II. 


The  bells — the  silvery  Christmas  bells, 

O'er  many  a  mile  they  sound, 
And  household  tones  are  answering  them 

In  thousand  homes  around. 
Voices  of  children,  blithe  and  shrill, 

With  youth's  strong  accents  blend, 
And  manhood's  deep  and  earnest  tones 

With  woman's  praise  ascend. 


THE      CHRISTMAS      BELLS.  53 


III. 


The  bells — the  bells — the  Christmas  bells, 

How  merrily  they  ring  ; 
As  if  they  felt  the  joy  they  tell 

To  every  human  thing. 
The  rich  man,  in  his  mansion  proud, 

The  poor  man  in  his  cot, 
Hear  the  glad  sound,  and  welcome  it ; 

Each  thankful  for  his  lot. 


MOUNT  SINAI. 


This  is  the  holy  mountain ;  and  among  all  the  stupendous  works 
of  nature,  not  a  place  could  be  selected  more  fitting  for  the  exhibition 
of  Almighty  power. 

Stephens'  Incidents  of  Travel. 


Still  darkly  glorious  in  thy  solitude, 

Hoar  sovereign  of  the  desert  !  thou  dost  stand, 
E'en  as  from  time's  first  ages  thou  hast  stood, 

Frowning  in  drear  pomp  o'er  that  blighted  land. 
The  storms  of  centuries  around  thy  brow 

Have  held  wild  revel,  and  the  winds  of  heaven 
Wrestled  in  conflict :  yet  thou  liftest  now 

Thy  giant  head  aloft,  unwreck'd,  unriven, 
As  if,  in  mockery  of  nature's  shocks, 
Eternity  sat  throned  among  thy  hoary  rocks. 


MOUNT      SINAI.  55 


How  sternly  desolate  !  the  Deity 

.Methinks  has  fixed  upon  that  awful  height 
His  grandest  signature  of  majesty, 

And  chronicled  his  Godhead's  changeless  might : 
And  as  the  tempest,  in  its  lurid  path, 

Sweeps  over  thee  unheeded,  we  behold 
Fit  emblem  of  that  throne,  which  earthly  wrath 

And  change  affect  not,  resting,  as  of  old, 
Upon  the  strong  foundations,  truth  sublime 
And  wisdom  infinite,  and  power  unchanged  by  time. 


Thine  is  a  history  which  links  in  one 

The  past  and  present  of  the  human  race, 
With  the  unbounded  future.     Time  hath  won 

No  crown  from  thee  ;  oblivion  cast  no  trace 
Of  his  blank  triumph  on  thy  calm,  dark  brow. 

A  token  and  a  promise  of  God's  love 
In  man's  redemption,  holy  mount,  hast  thou 

Shed  o'er  thee  as  a  presence  from  above  ; 
Preserving,  e'en  mid  nature's  silent  grave, 
Bright  footsteps  of  His  grace  who  spake  to  bless  and 
save. 


56  MOUNT      SINAI. 


Still  art  thou  holy.     God's  appointed  throne, 
Where  mortal  man  held  audience  with  Him, 
Here,  lightning-girt,  his  high  pavilion  shone, 

Here  his  own  thunder  rolled  its  awful  hymn. 
Here,  while  unutterable  awe  did  thrill 

The  souls  of  Israel's  breathless  multitude, 
As  if  the  heart  of  that  great  host  grew  still 

In  one  concentred  pulse  ;  the  prophet  stood 
Commissioned  to  receive  the  laws  of  heaven, 
For  man's  instruction,  strength  and  guidance  given. 


What  solemn  shadowings  of  the  future,  rest 

Around  thee,  to  the  eye  of  faith,  unsealed 
At  heaven's  unclouded  fount  of  knowledge  blest, 

Reading  the  visible  by  the  revealed  ! 
Rising  from  off  that  wide  and  burning  sea 

Of  desolation,  that  around  thee  lies, 
It  sees  the  time  when  earth  itself  shall  be 

A  scorched  and  blighted  thing  beneath  the  skies, 
And  the  wild  flood  of  elemental  fire 
Robe  nature's  mighty  frame  in  one  vast  funeral  pyre. 


MOUNT      SINAI,  57 


Blackness,  and  darkness,  and  the  tempest's  throes 

Affrighted  thee  of  old  ;  the  trumpet's  sound 
Eang  in  thy  defts  ;  the  voice  of  words  arose 

Too  awful  for  the  cars  of  those  around. 
To  us,  all  glorious  in  celestial  light, 

A  grander  vision  dawns  athwart  thy  gloom  j 
For  not  unto  an  earthly  mount  that  might 

Be  touch'd,  or  burn'd  with  fire,  have  we  come, 
But  to  mount  Sion,  which  for  aye  shall  be, 
Our  joyful  steps  are  turned,  great  antityped  of  thee. # 


A  type  art  tbou  of  that  b!est  mount  of  God, 

"Which  shadow'd  by  th'  excecs  of  heaven's  full  day, 
Fast  by  the  eternal  throne  is  fixed>  and  t^od 

By  seraphs  and  archangels,  in  the  ray 
Of  their  own  love  most  bright ;  the  company 

Of  cherubim,  most  beauteous  in  the  glow 
Of  inteLect  and  stainless  loyalty, 

With  the  redeem'd  of  earth,  whoGe  praises  flow 
Comming1! ng  with  the  anihem  pea',  that  rings 
From  myriad  gold  ?n  harps,  before  the  King  of  kings. 

*  Hebrews  12  :  18.  23. 


58 


MOUNT      SINAI. 


0  holy,  holy,  holy  God  most  high  ! 

When,  in  our  blindness  and  our  helplessness, 
We  fail  to  see  our  home  beyond  the  sky, 

And  faint  within  this  earthly  wilderness  ; 
Send  down  thy  Spirit — touch  the  dead,  cold  heart 

With  living  fire — purge  the  clouded  sight, 
Strength  to  the  trembling  pilgrim  soon  impart, 

And  gild  our  pathway  with  celestial  light ; 
So  shall  we  tread  in  faith  the  desert  here, 
And  on  the  eternal  mount  redeemed  at  last  appear. 


THE  BISHOP  AT  HE  ST. 


"  Bishop  Jolly  died  in  his  chamber,  at  night  and  alone.  He  was 
found  by  his  attendants  in  the  morning,  with  his  '  decent  limbs  com- 
posed' for  the  sepulchre,  his  arms  crossed  upon  his  breast,  and  his 
'avorite  book,  *  Disce  Mori,'  open  in  his  hands." 


The  taper's  light  burns  dim 

Within  that  chamber  lone, 
And  the  hoarse  night-wind  by  the  casement  sweeps 

With  a  dull  and  dirge-like  moan, 
And  duly  the  clock's  deep  tones  are  heard 

As  the  weary  hours  pass  on. 


Upon  his  bed  of  death, 

That  good  old  man  doth  lie  ; 

Hi  !  'jrentle  brow,  all  calm  and  clear, 
Turned  to  the  midnight  sky; 

Unchanged  in  all,  save  the  glassy  film 
Of  death,  on  his  half-closed  eye. 


60  THE      BISHOP      AT     REST. 


He  seemeth  but  to  sleep, 

Awaiting  day's  return  $ — 
Shall  he  not  wake  when  that  taper's  light, 

At  dawn,  shall  cease  to  burn  1 
He  sleeps  indeed  : — but  he  shall  not  wake 

Till  the  resurrection  morn. 


An  oft-read  volume  lies 

Unclasped  upon  his  breast, 
Solace  of  pain  through  the  weary  days 

Attendant  of  his  rest : 
That  holy  book  he  shall  read  no  more, 

For  "  the  dead  in  the  Lord  are  blest." 


In  the  lone  and  silent  hours 

His  spirit  left  the  clay — 
No  earthly  eye  was  here  to  mark 

When  the  bonds  of  flesh  gave  way  5 
No  eye  but  His,  who  ceaseth  not 

To  watch  his  saints  alway. 


THE      BISHOP      AT      REST.  61 


Bravely,  we  think,  he  died — 

For  a  blessed  sign  he  made  ; 
He  thought  of  the  cross  in  his  mortal  hour, 

For,  mark  !  how  his  arms  are  laid  : — 
If  the  Holy  Jesus  shielded  him, 

Think  ye  he  was  afraid  1 


Bravely,  we  think,  he  passed 

Through  grim  deatlvs  gloomy  sea, 

For  an  angel's  smile  is  on  his  lip, 
As  bright  as  smile  can  be  ; 

And  his  brow  seems  yet  lit  up  with  hope, 
0  how  triumphantly  ! 


Old  soldier,  rest  thee  well ! 

The  battle  strife  is  past : 
Good  Bishop! — precious  souls  of  men, 

As  thy  reward,  thou  hast  : 
Servant  of  God  !  with  thee,  in  bliss, 

May  we  all  meet  at  last ! 


THE  CHUUCH  OF  ENG-LAND. 


Manfully  contend  for  her,    because   she   is  the   church,  a  true 
church,  a  pure  church,  a  holy  church. 

Dr.  Hook. 


The  ancient  Church  of  England! 

How  gloriously  she  stands, 
Midst  persecution's  fierce  assaults, 

And  error's  leaguered  bands! 
A  calm,  undaunted  front  she  wears, 

Of  confidence  and  strength, 
Unmoved,  though  trouble's  darkest  hour 

Seems  threat'ning  her  at  length. 


THE      CHURCH      OF      ENGLAND.  63 


The  pure  old  Church  of  England  ! 

Christ's  true,  unsullied  spouse, 
Time-honored  witness  of  the  truth, 

Shrine  of  unbroken  vows  ! 
Blest  with  the  holiest  memories 

Of  valiant  men  of  God, 
And  martyred  ones  who  honored  her 

With  sufferings  and  blood. 


The  brave  old  Church  of  England ! 

Strong  champion  of  the  Lord, 
For  ages  wielding  valiantly 

The  Spirit's  two-edged  sword  ! 
Ever  the  foremost  in  the  fight, 

And  latest  in  the  field, 
Contending  nobly  for  the  faith 

She  would  not  lose  nor  yield. 


64  THE      CHURCH      OF      ENGLAND. 


The  free  old  Church  of  England ! 

That  scorned  the  papal  sway, 
And  cast  off  Rome's  supremacy 

In  Rome's  most  haughty  day ; 
That  firmly  stood  when  error  rolled 

Its  myriad  waves  around, 
Where  Christ  had  founded  her  at  first, 

On  truth's  unchanging  ground. 


The  good  old  Church  of  England ! 

Within  whose  cloistered  halls 
So  many  gifted  men  have  wrought 

In  learning's  sacred  toils — 
0,  how  shall  Christendom  repay 

The  debt  it  owes,  through  them, 
Who  kept  the  faith,  and  guarded  well 

Truth's  heavenly,  priceless  gem'? 


TIIE   CHURCH   OF   ENGLAND.      65 


The  holy  Church  of  England  ! 

Holy  in  name  and  deed! 
High  gratitude  we  owe  to  her, 

And  honor's  purest  meed  ; 
In  doctrine,  rule  and  ordinance, 

With  holiness  imbued, 
And  with  the  Spirit's  seven-fold  gifts 

Of  grace  and  strength  endued. 


The  suffering  Church  of  England  ! 

The  wronged  and  deeply  tried  ; 
The  fierce  opposer  seeks  her  fall, 

The  scoffer  mocks  her  pride  ; 
The  infidel  insults  her  zeal, 

Her  patience,  truth,  and  love — 
Send  down,  O  God  !  thine  aiding  grace 

Upon  her  from  above. 


66 


THE      CHURCH      OF      ENGLAND, 


God  bless  the  Church  of  England  ! 

God  help  her,  and  defend  ! 
And  yet,  from  all  her  altars  pure 

May  joyous  songs  ascend ! 
High  anthems  of  deliverance, 

Thanksgivings  of  meek  praise, 
For  safety  from  the  wicked  ones, 

And  strength  midst  evil  days. 


HYMN  OF  CHRIST'S  ADVENT. 


He  comes  !  angelic  messengers, 

Bright  heralds,  o'er  his  way  have  trod, 
Yet  no  glad  voice  of  welcome  stirs 

Within  the  earthly  courts  of  God. 
He  comes!  the  veil  of  prophecy, 

Long  trembling  in  the  breath  of  time, 
Is  lifted  up,  and  gloriously 

The  light  of  heavenly  truth  sublime 
Upon  the  expectant  earth  is  poured  ; 
Sion  !  Behold  thy  Saviour  Lord. 


68  Christ's    advent. 


He  comes  !  the  sacrificial  fire 

Upon  the  altar  dies  away  ,• 
The  shadows  of  the  law  retire 

Before  the  Gospel's  dawning  ray. 
He  comes  !  the  Baptist's  warning  voice 

Sounds  in  Judea's  wilderness, 
And  faithful  men  of  God  rejoice 

To  bless  the  infant  Prince  of  Peace  ; 
The  Godhead  comes  with  man  to  dwell 
Where  are  thy  greetings,  Israeli 


He  comes  !  enthroned  upon  her  hills, 

And  calm  in  her  resistless  power, 
Old  Rome  her  ordered  task  fulfils 

For  the  Messiah's  promised  hour  : — 
From  Britain's  isle  to  where  the  sea 

Rolls  'neath  the  distant  orient, 
Her  eagles  soar  triumphantly, 

Her  conquering  voice,  like  light,  is  sent  , 
The  nations,  tranquil  'neath  her  sway, 
Await  the  dawn  of  Gospel  day. 


C  H  E  I  S  T  *  S      ADVENT. 

He  comes!  from  age  to  age,  through  all 

The  wrecks  of  earthly  pomp  and  pride, 
Mid  haughty  empires'  rise  and  fall — 

By  hell  opposed — by  man  defied — 
His  kingdom  still  hath  spread,  his  name 

Hath  been  proclaimed  on  every  shore, 
And  still  shall  spread,  in  holy  fame, 

Till  earth  and  time  shall  be  no  more  ; 
And  mighty  realms,  to  Rome  unknown, 
Shall  all  his  glorious  empire  own. 


With  humble  brow,  and  bended  knee, 
And  hearts  attuned  to  holiest  praise, 

May  we  await  and  welcome  thee, 

■     Ancient  of  everlasting  days! 

Redeemer  !  in  our  souls-prepare 

Thy  temple — rear  thy  gracious  throne, 

To  rule  in  blessed  influence  there, 
Sacred  to  thee,  Great  God,  alone  ; 

So,  when  thou  com'st  in  glory,  we 

Among  thy  chosen  ones  may  be. 


EPIPHANY. 


1  We  have  seen  his  star  in  the  East." 


I. 


In  heaven's  blue  depths,  afar, 

It  burns,  all  radiant  and  serene, 
Mid  sphered  moon  and  star, 

Suspended  there  since  time  hath  been  ; 
Full  orbed  and  glorious  it  arose 

Among  those  congregated  spheres, 
Ordained  to  mark  the  dawn  and  close 

Of  days,  and  months,  and  circling  years. 


EPIPHANY.  71 


II. 


What  hand  divine  hath  placed 

This  new  and  stranger  star  on  high  1 
What  mighty  finger  traced 

Its  kindling  path  along  the  sky  1 
Those  strong  and  ancient  orbs  roll  on, 

Brilliant  and  silent,  as  of  old, 
When  their  wide  courses  were  begun, 

And  God  their  myriad  number  told. 


III. 


Among  their  host  this  shines 

With  a  serene  and  golden  gleam, 

Darting  its  trembling  lines 

Athwart  the  moonlight's  silver  stream  ; 

A  deep  and  solemn  lustre  shed 

Upon  the  azure  over  head  ; 

A  tremulous  and  tender  glow    • 

I  pon  the  sleeping  earth  below. 


72  EPIPHANY. 


IV. 


Sages  its  rising  hail 

With  gladness  from  their  distant  hills, 
Where  stars  beam  wan  and  pale 

O'er  Araby's  bleak  plains  and  rills  ; 
Joyful  they  mark  the  hope  of  day 
For  moral  night,  in  every  ray, 
And  truth,  from  heaven's  eternal  springs. 
Borne  out  on  mercy's  golden  wings. 


V. 


Behold  them  on  their  way  ! 

Girded  they  tread  the  burning  sands, 
Braving  the  fervid  day, 

And  the  wild  desert's  lawless  bands  ; 
The  weary  leagues  all  patiently 

In  long  and  painful  travel  pass'd, 
The  mountain  scaled,  and  cross'd  the  sea, 

And  their  far  bourne  is  gained  at  last. 


E  P  [PHANTi  73 


VI. 


Adoringly  they  bow 

Before  the  lowly  infant  there  ; 
And  gifts  are  proffer'd  now, 

With  worship  meet,  and  votive  prayer, 
Gold,  royally  and  richly  wrought 

'Neath  Southern  India's  ardent  sun  ; 
And  costly  myrrh  from  Saba  brought, 

And  frankincense  from  Lebanon. 


VII. 

In  him  they  hail  the  child 

Promised  fro*m  ancient  days  to  man  ; 
Shiloh  !   whose  glory  mild 

Along  the  night  of  ages  ran  ; 
W  hose  glorious  report  was  heard 

And  seen  in  type  and  prophecy  : 
When  nature's  fainting  heart  was  stirred 

With  hope  of  rescue  from  on  high. 


74  EPIPHANY, 


VIII. 


Deliverer  and  King  ! 

Whose  star  and  sceptre  kindling  rolled 
In  vivid  picturing, 

Before  the  Gentile  seer  of  old  ; 
His  dawning  light  o'er  earth  is  poured 

As  sunshine  from  the  glance  of  morn  : 
The  angel  messenger  adored  ! 

The  uncreated  Word  is  born  ! 


IX. 

And  oh  !  the  star  that  went 

Before  the  snges'  path  sublime, 
Up  the  far  orient, 

Higher  and  brighter  yet  shall  climb, 
And  nations,  sitting  in  the  dust 

And  gloom  of  sin,  shall  lift  their  eyes, 
And  fixing  there  their  only  trust, 

Be  led  in  mercy  to  the  skies. 


EPIPHANY.  75 


X. 


O'er  every  work  of  sin 

The  Saviour's  kingdom  shall  prevail  ; 
The  Gentiles  shall  come  in, 

From  isle,  and  sea,  and  plain,  and  vale  ; 
And  Israel's  sons  from  stranger  lands 

Again  shall  throng  their  ancient  seat, 
To  God  lift  up  their  holy  hands, 

And  worship  at  Messiah's  feet. 


XI. 


Oh  !  may  we  welcome  him 

With  holy  joy  and  praise  sincere, 
Meek  prayer,  and  fervent  hymn, 

Firm  faith,  and  love's  repenting  tear  ! 
And  may  our  hearts  be  gladly  strovvn — 

Fit  offerings — in  his  blessed  path  ; 
And  may  we  live  as  "  not  our  own," 

But  saved,  redeemed,  by  him  from  wrath. 


MISSIONARY  HYMN. 


"  Ye  Christian  heroes  !  go,  proclaim 
Salvation  in  Immanuel's  name  5 
To  distant  climes  the  tidings  bear, 
And  plant  the  Rose  of  Sharon  there." 

Go,  girded  with  Jehovah's  might, 
And,  cheered  by  faith's  unclouded  light, 
Fervent  and  bold,  to  sound  abroad 
The  glorious  Jubilee  of  God. 


Go  preach  the  Gospel,  where  no  word 
Of  pard'ning  love  hath  e'er  been  heard  : 
On  Afric's  shore,  by  China's  sea, 
On  plains  of  Ind  and  Araby. 


3810  NAR  Y      II  V  M  N  .  Ti 


Where  superstition  reigns  in  fear, 
Salvation's  golden  banner  rear; 
In  realms  for  ages  cursed  with  sin, 
Trophies  of  endless  glory  win. 


Valiant  with  courage  from  above, 

And  strong  in  faith — which  works  by  love, 

Let  meekness  your  protection  be, 

Till  conflict  ends  in  victory. 


Patient  and  fearless,  in  the  hour 
When  wo  and  trial  round  you  lower, 
Regard  not  earthly  shame  or  loss, 
But  clincr  undaunted  to  the  cross. 


Press  on  to  glory,  men  of  God  ! 
l)y  the  same  path  your  Saviour  I 
Until  your  work,  like  his,  be  done, 
And  life  and  victor-crowns  are  won. 


DIUGE    OF    THE    FLOWERS. 


"  All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  goodliness  thereof  as  the  flower  of 
the  field.  The  grass  withereth,  the  flower  fadeth:  surely  the  people 
is  grass." — Isaiah  40:  6. 


Pale,  lingering  flowers  of  the  dying  year, 
Why,  drooping  sad,  o'er  autumn's  yellow  bier, 

Do  ye  prolong  your  stay  % 
When  the  rich  glory  o'er  the  meadows  cast, 
And  voices  sweet  of  summer  birds,  have  past 

Sadly  away. 


DIRGE      OF      THE      FLOWERS.  79 


At  eve,  the  perfumed  zephyr  softly  sung 
His  low,  departing  anthem  where  ye  hung, 

Sweet  tokens  of  the  spring  ! 
Mid  wreaths  of  dew,  like  those  a  fairy  weaves, 
Upon  the  closing  petals  and  the  leaves 

Bright  clustering. 


At  morning's  hour,  all  curtained  o'er  with  green, 
Ye  dimly  lay  the  whispering  leaves  between, 

Like  bright  eyes  robed  in  sleep, 
And  as  ye  opened  to  the  summer  air, 
There  faintly  rose  a  sound  of  gladness  there, 

Holy  and  deep. 


But  now  the  autumn  wind  sighs  o'er  your  heads, 
And  the  cold  moon,  from  yon  blue  heaven,  sheds 

Her  silver  dew-drops  there  ; 
And  mournfully,  like  music  o'er  the  sea, 
Your  last  and  dying  fragrance  comes  to  me 

Through  the  chill  air. 


1 


80  DIRGE      OF      THE      FLOWERS. 


Darkly  ye  fade  from  pleasant  streams  and  woods  ! 
Around  your  wonted  haunts,  in  coldness,  broods 

The  spirit  of  decay  : 
On  the  waste  places  of  this  clouded  earth 
We're  left  to  mourn  your  loveliness  and  mirth, 

Gathered  away. 


Ye  are  the  types  of  all  that  man  deems  bright, 
Like  you  his  earth-born  pleasures  bloom  in  light, 

Like  you  -they  quickly  fly  ; 
And  leave  the  breaking  heart  to  cling  again, 
With  a  fond  yearning,  passionate  as  vain, 

To  things  that  die. 


THE  SPIRIT'S  DESTINY* 


The  summer  moon,  sweet  regent  of  the  night, 

Has  measured  half  her  radiant  course  on  high  : — 
And  lo  !  how  beautiful  in  cloudless  light 

The  morning  star  shines  from  the  distant  sky  : 
Night's  countless  orbs,  successive  in  thy  train, 

Mild,  lovely  planet !  clustering,  come  and  go. 
As  if  to  minister  to  thy  bright  reign, 

Mingling  their  feebler  lustre  with  the  glow 
Of  richest  light,  which  thou  dost  send  afar 
Through  the  blue  heaven: — hail  to  thee,  sweet  star! 

*  Suggested  by  the  sudden  decease  of  Mr>\  Catharine  Morns,  wiff 
of  A.  H.  Stevens,  M.  D.,  of  New-York. 

6 


82  the    spirit's    destiny. 

I  saw  thee,  months  ago,  as  now,  serene 

Amid  the  host  of  stars  that  round  thee  burn, 
With  sad  and  tearful  eye,  for  I  had  been 

Within  the  house  of  death  with  those  that  mourn. 
A  noble  spirit  had  been  called  away ; 

And  when  the  sunset  lay  with  golden  spell 
On  the  soft  landscape,  we  consigned  the  clay 

To  its  cold  chamber,  while  the  village  knell 
Tolled  out  its  last  sounds,  mournful,  deep,  and  slow, 
Interpreting  the  heart's  unspoken  wo. 


And  when  the  night  to  that  harassing  day 

Succeeded  with  its  silence  and  sweet  rest, 
I  sadly  marked  thy  clear,  unclouded  ray, 

As  some  fair  gleam  from  regions  of  the  blest. 
I  saw  thee,  and  I  wept ;  but  those  were  tears 

Not  of  a  sorrow  without  hope.     A  soul, 
Whose  light  more  lovely  in  successive  years 

Shone  on  our  path,  had  reached  its  glorious  goal ; 
Like  thee  through  earth's  brief  night,  its  course  had 

given 
Gleams  of  the  pure  and  perfect  day  of  heaven. 


the    spirit's    destiny.  83 

Thou  hast  a  home,  sweet  star  ! — yon  fields  of  blue 

Are  thy  primeval  heritage  ; — thy  way, 
Circled  around  th'  invisible  throne,  is  true, 

Distinct,  and  bright.     Alike  by  night  and  day 
Thou  dost  fulfil  thy  glorious  destiny, 

And  with  the  morning  stars,  and  with  the  train 
Of  solemn  evening,  it  is  thine  to  be 

For  ever  hymning,  in  thy  choral  strain, 
The  praise  of  Him,  who  erst  thy  measures  told 
Through  ancient  night,  and  lit  thy  flame  of  old. 


Of  this  material  universe  of  God 

A  bright  inhabitant, — thou  still  shalt  hold 
The  same  celestial  path  which  thou  hast  trod 

For  centuries  unchronicled  of  old. 
Through  coming  years  thy  mystic  orb  shall  shine 

With  light   unquench'd,   till    yon  blue   vault   of 
heaven, 
By  the  all-powerful  word  and  hand  divine 

Deep  moved,  from  its  foundations  shall  be  riven, 
And  sun  and  star,  lights  of  a  perished  world, 
From  their  hinrh  thrones  to  darkness  shall  be  hurled. 


84?  the    spirit's    destiny. 

Thou  with  thy  sister  orbs,  first-born  of  time, 

With  time  sha]t  cease  to  be.     A  bound  is  set 
To  that  unwearied  course  and  watch  sublime 

Which  in  yon  firmament  thou  holdest  yet. 
All  this  material  must  fade  away 

To  nothingness  and  gloom  : — but  shall  there  rise 
No  lovelier  creation,  whose  full  day 

Shall  be  as  God's,  eternal  1 — whose  young  skies 
Shall  brighten  with  new  lights  as  fair  as  thine, 
Whose  goings  forth   shall  be  unchanging  and  di- 
vined 

And  this  immortal  part — this  deathless  gift 

Of  high  intelligence, — the  living  soul, — 
Unconquered  e'en  in   death,  whose  thoughts  are 
swift 

To  soar  beyond  yon  heaven's  farthest  goal — 
Where,  mid  the  wide  unmeasured  fields  of  space, 

Shall  be  its  habitation  and  its  rest  1 
Is  there  for  it  no  glorious  resting-place, 

No  region  of  calm  life,  where  all  is  blest  1 
Rejoice,  0  spirit !  in  thy  strength  rejoice, 
Thy  hopes  are  all  confirmed  by  heaven's  assuring 
voice. 


the    spirit's    destiny.  85 

From  the  wild  ruin  of  this  earthly  scene, 

The  wreck  and  drear  decay  of  things  that  be, 
A  brighter,  purer  world  shall  rise  serene, 

The  noblest  handiwork  of  Deity. 
Radiant  and  beautiful  around  his  throne, 

Fair  fields  of  light,  by  shining  legions  trod, 
Shall  brighten  still,  in  tint  celestial  zone, 

Whose  brightness  is  the  unclouded  smile  of  God. 
There  shall  the  spirit  find  its  own  high  bourne, 
Dwelling  in  bliss,  progressive  still  without  return. 


Above  the  aspects  and  the  destiny 

Of  this  creation,  is  the  spirit's  range  ; 
It  has  a  home  beyond  the  things  that  be, 

Above  all  suffering  and  mortal  change, 
Like  those  pure  orbs  that,  all  untended  there, 

Light  up  on  high  their  "  old  unfailing  fires ;" — 
Above  the  atmosphere  of  sin  and  care 

It  sendeth  forth  its  boundless,  bright  desires  : 
Lnlike  those  orbs,  it  shall  not  fail  nor  fade, 
But  o'er  their  wrecks  survive,  undimmed  and  unde- 
cayed. 


86  the    spirit's    destiny. 

High  lessons  such  as  these  in  times  of  eld 

The  meek  Chaldean  read  in  heaven's  bright  face  ; 
Such  lessons,  too,  they  pondered  well  who  held 

On  mount  and  silent  plain  their  dwelling-place, 
O'er  whose  lone  vigil,  faint,  but  radiant  gleams 

Of  man's  immortal  destiny  arose, 
Shedding  celestial  light  on  earthly  dreams, 

And  hope's  sweet  ray,  thro'  night  of  mortal  woes, 
Quick'ning  the  spirit,  by  that  converse  high, 
With  thoughts  of  purer  life,  andjoysthat  cannot  die. 


Lessons  like  these,  in  groves  of  Academe, 

He  of  the  God-like  thought  and  soul  divine,* 
Learned  in  his  midnight  toil,  what  time  his  theme 

Dwelt  on  the  glories  of  the  mystic  Trine, 
Creative  Deity,  by  whose  command 

The  starry  universe  in  light  upsprung, 
And  myriad  orbs,  all  radiant  from  His  hand, 

Upon  their  ancient  courses  first  were  flung: 
He  felt  his  mind's  true  destiny,  amazed, 
Yet    claiming    empire  o'er  the  pomp  on  which  he 
gazed. 

*  Plato. 


the    spirit's    destiny.  87 

'Neath  the  soft  glow  of  the  Italian  skies, 

With  tranquil  Hesper  watching  out  the  night, 
Or  at  eve's  dewy  close,  or  morning's  rise, 

Rome's  gifted  son,  with  new  and  strange  delight 
Nursed  such  aspirings  in  his  awe-struck  soul, 

And  clothed  the  burden  of  his  eloquent  thought 
In  words  that  cannot  die  : — u  When  the  dim  goal 

Of  this  mortality  is  passed,  the  spirit,  wrought 
Of  deathless  elements,  shall  join  the  throng 
Of  spirits  freed  from  earth,  to  whom  no  earthly  taints 
belong."* 

In  deepest  contemplation,  and  the  toil 

Of  strong  unfettered  thought,  the  human  mind 
Thus  won,  by  reason's  aid,  this  noblest  spoil 

To  gild  the  track  which  else  were  .dark  and  blind. 
But  to  these  masters  of  the  ancient  lore 

No  heavenly  voice  had  spoken,  no  sure  ray 
Had  dawned  upon  their  dreams — their  musings  bore 

Traces  but  faint  of  truth's  full,  perfect  day, 
And  man,  left  groping  still  in  wo  and  gloom, 
Pursued  his  dark  and  cheerless  way  in  sorrow  to 
the  tomb. 

*  Delightful  hour,  whon  I  shall  journey  towards  that  divine  assem- 
ITt  from  this  crowd  of  polluted  I 
cero  1>    S 


88  the    spirit's    destiny, 


Then  dawned  the  Gospel  morn.  A  voice  was  heard 

Proclaiming  life  and  joy  beyond  the  grave  ; 
Deeply  the  yearning  heart  of  nature  stirred, 

And  to  that  voice  a  joyous  answer  gave. 
Triumphant  over  death,  and  decked  with  spoils 

Won  from  the  vanquished  foe,  the  Saviour  rose, 
Bright  with  the  fruits  of  his  redeeming  toils, 

Unbarr'd  the  gates  of  life,  no  more  to  close  ; 
Confirmed  the  hope  that  dawned  through  reason's 

night, 
And  thus  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light. 


In  him  behold  our  life — our  hope  of  all 

That  makes  the  Christian's  death-bed  calm  and 
sweet ; 
Through  him  he  joyous  hears  the  tyrant's  call, 

Joyous  departs,  his  just  award  to  meet ; 
Through  faith  in  him  he  looks  with  peaceful  smile 

Upon  the  darkling  vale  which  he  must  tread  ; 
The  promises  his  sternest  pangs  beguile, 

And  o'er  his  darkest  hour  their  lustre  shed ; 
Quickened  by  him — the  mortal  conflict  passed — 
He  rises,  robed  with  holiness,  to  his  reward  at  last. 


the    spirit's    destiny,  89 

'What  is  it  then  to  die  1     This  changing  earth, 

With  all  her  vaunted  riches,  treasures  up 
No   spiritual  wealth  of  lasting  worth, 

No  deathless  charm  within  her  pleasure's  cup. 
E'en  were  her  gifts  immortal  as  the  mind 

That,  still  unsatisfied,  seeks  ncbler  joys 
Than  those  she  gives,  who  would  consent  to  bind 

Its  glorious  faculties  to  such  vain  toys, 
Wasting  for  aye  the  spirit's  wealth  on  dross, 
Neglecting  heavenly  gain  for  earthly  shame  and  lossl 


What  is  it  then  to  die  1     The  gate  of  death 

Is  made  all  glorious  with  the  light  of  life, 
Immortal  and  serene  ;  and  sorrow's  breath, 

That  mournful  rose  mid  scenes  of  care  and  strife, 
Is  lost  in  angel  tones  of  happiness  ; 

u  Beauty  for  ashes"  shall  the  soul  receive, 
The  oil  of  joy  for  wo, — for  heaviness 

The  shining  robes  of  praise.  The  tomb  shall  leave 
?So  taint  of  sin,  or  weakness,  and  the  flow 
Of  heaven's  unceasing  joys  from  them   no  check 
shall  know. 


90  the    spirit's    destiny. 

Mourn  not  the  dead  in  Christ  !  The  grave  may  close 

On  forms  that  o'er  our  path  were  wont  to  keep 
Familiar  guardianship,  and  death's  repose 

May  settle  o'er  bright  features  stern  and  deep ; 
The  gentle  ministries  of  love  may  cease 

With  the  departed  ones,  and  the  wrung  heart 
Faint  with  the  loss,  and  find  no  gift  of  peace, 

Save  in  the  drear  calm  its  own  woes  impart  : 
And  life,  all  veiled  in  sadness,  may  present 
No  scene  with  future  joy  or  comfort  blent. 


Yet,  in  the  gloom  of  sorrow  there  arise 

Beauteous  revealings  of  that  purer  sphere 
In  which  the  spirit's  light,  that  to  our  eyes 

Is  all  eclipsed,  shines  on  serene  and  clear, 
As  oft,  within  the  summer  morning  sky 

Thy  silver  brightness  seems,  most  lovely  star, 
To  melt  within  the  flood  oflight  on  high, 

Which  the  glad  sun  pours  through  its  depths  afar  $ 
Like  thee,  though  hid  from  our  o'erclouded  sight, 
The  soul  yet  brightens  on    in  heaven's  unsullied 
light. 


THE      SPIRIT'S      DESTINY.  91 

A  denizen  of  that  blest  mount  of  God 

Which,  sluulowed  by  th'  excess  of  His  full  day, 
Fast  by  the  eternal  throne  is  fixed,  and  trod 

By  seraphs  and  archangels,  in  the  ray 
Of  their  own  love  most  bright,  the  company 

Of  cherubim  most  beauteous  in  the  glow 
Of  intellect  and  stainless  loyalty, 

With  the  redeemed  of  earth,  whose  praises  flow 
Commingling  with  the  anthem  peal  that  rings 
From  myriad  golden  harps  before  the  King  of  kings. 


Departed  friend  !   we  mourn,  but  not  for  thee  ; 

Thy  portion,  in  that  radiant  dwelling-place 
Of  satisfying  joys,  shall  ever  be 

Bright  with  the  fulness  of  the  Saviour's  grace. 
A  harp  and  crown  are  thine — among  the  throng 

Of  glorious  ones,  to  mingle  ceaseless  tones 
Of  grateful  praise  with  the  angelic  song, 

To  sit  with  Christ  upon  celestial  thrones, 
To  tread  with  the  redeemed  those  shining  fields, 
And  quaff  that  living  stream  which  endless  pleasure 
yields. 


92 


THE      SPIRIT'S      DESTINY. 


We  mourn,  but  not  for  thee  !  for  well  we  know, 

Ours  is  the  loss,  thine  the  eternal  gain; 
To  this  cold  world  of  suffering  and  wo, 

Of  fickle  pleasure  and  recurring  pain, 
We  would  not  now  recall  thee.     May  we  live 

As  thou  hast  lived,  and  die  as  thou  didst  die, 
Strong  in  the  faith  which  none  but  Christ  can  give, 

Ardent  with  hope  to  reach  our  home  on  high. 


TWILIGHT  CONTEMPLATION. 

Sweet,  silent  hour,  for  meditation  given, 
And  holy  thought! — We  mark  thy  silver  steps 
Steal,  tremulous,  upon  the  verge  of  heaven, 
Where  the  rich  glow  of  the  descended  sun 
Yet  lingers,  tinging  the  dispersing  clouds 
With  softest  golden  light.     As  yet,  thy  hues 
Are  mingled  with  the  sunset,  scarce  perceived 
Amid  the  brilliant  streams  that  minister 
To  her  full  depth  of  splendor  ; — yet  we  feel 
Thy  breath  around  us,  and  thy  promised  boon 
In  balmy  winds  that  from  th'  illumined  west 
Come  laden  with  a  blessing,  and  soft  dews 
That  wait  around  thy  coming,  and  prepare 
The  earth  for  thine  approach.     Sweet,  silent  hour! 
We  welcome  thee  ;  and  may  our  evening  song 
Flow  on  in  calm  and  grateful  harmony 
With  thee  and  thy  pervading  influence. 


94<  TWILIGHT     CONTEMPLATION. 


Lo  !  on  the  far  verge  of  the  firmament, 
Where,  with  majestic  sweep,  its  depth  of  blue 
Bends  o'er  the  northwest  horizon,  a  star 
Hath  just  arisen.    Now  tremulous  and  pale, 
It  seems  to  float,  uncertain  of  its  track, 
In  the  soft  atmosphere,  yet  gaining  strength 
And  beauty,  as  the  sunset  glories  melt 
Gradual,  in  rarest  beauty  from  the  sky, 
It  soon  shall  shine,  all  lovely  in  the  train 
Of  the  bright  summer  moon,  and  take  its  place 
First  in  the  fresh  radiant  troop  that  haste  to  greet 
The  joyous  dawn,  and  brightly  disappear 
In  the  fresh  splendor  of  the  sovreign  sun. 
Through  the  still  night  that  lovely  star  shall  hold 
Bright  watch  among  the  sabaoth  of  heaven  ; 
And  when  its  peaceful  lustre,  high  and  clear, 
Burns  in  the  zenith  and  descends  again 
From  the  meridian,  it  still  shall  beam 
With  an  increasing  light  and  loveliness, 
Till,  lost  within  that  glorious  fount  of  light 
From  which  its  own  pure  spring  is  fed,  it  fades 
In  beauty  from  our  rapt,  admiring  gaze. 


TWILIGHT      C  O  N  T  E  M  P  L  A  T  I  O  X  .  95 


So  when  the  Christian  spirit,  which  receives 

Light,  strength,  and  beauty,  from  the  orb  of  truth 

That  shines,  unclouded,  in  the  Gospel  sphere, 

First  dawns  to  its  high  birth,  its  rays  are  faint, 

Trembling,  and  unconfirmed;  soon  grace  renewed 

Gives  power  to  its  weakness,  and  confirms 

Faith's  trembling  ray  with  clearest  light  of  heaven, 

And  hope's  effulgence.     Higher,  lovelier, 

It  rises  in  its  heavenward  course.     Fresh  beams 

Cluster  around  it;  ever  brightening  on 

In  moral  light,  in  all  that  can  impart 

Lustre  to  virtue,  eloquence  to  truth  ; 

Rich  in  example,  motive,  object,  end, 

It  holds  its  way  through  this  brief  night  of  time, 

Prophetic  of  its  perfect  day  in  heaven. 


ST.  PAUL  AT  ATHENS. 


Morn  on  the  blue  iEgean  ! — lo,  afar 
O'er  its  wide  waters  hangs  the  last  faint  star, 
Gleaming  through  fading  mists  of  purple,  rolled 
Along  the  dim  horizon,  edged  with  gold. 
Bright  bark,  like  spirits  of  that  lovely  sea, 
Upon  its  waveless  breast  sleep  tranquilly, 
Peaceful  and  silent  all  ;  save  when  the  oar 
Of  some  lone  fisherman  along  the  shore, 
Dips  in  the  shining  waters,  or  the  gale 
Of  morning  slow  distends  the  heavy  sail. 


!  T  .      PAUL      AT     ATHENS.  97 


Morning  on  queenly  Athens  ! — and  each  height, 
Bathed  in  the  splendor  of  the  dawning  light, 
Bursts  with  its  glorious  temples  on  the  eye, 
And  sculptured  columns,  gleaming  to  the  sky. 
Like  some  proud  conqueror,  advancing  on 
O'er  realms  subdued  and  empires  brightly  won, 
From  the  blue  east  the  sun  in  glory  rose 
Waking  the  wide  world  from  its  brief  repose, 
And  soft  o'er  grove,  and  height,  and  fountain,  threw 
The  greeting  splendor  of  his  matin  hue  ; 
And  as  the  beam  first  fell  upon  the  wave, 
The  laughing  tide  a  sound  of  music  gave, 
And  waving  woods  sent  forth  their  whispered  mirth 
Like  tones  from  seraph  voices,  o'er  the  earth. 


Lo  !  through  the  marble  streets  the  varied  throng 
Of  Athens'  proudest  children  sweeps  along: 
The  kingly  senator,  with  measured  stride, 
The  haughty  soldier,  with  his  brow  of  pride, 
The  saofe,  upon  whose  kindling  glances  roll 
Eloquent  tokens  of  the  aspiring  soul, 
7 


98  ST.     PAUL     AT     ATHENS. 


The  bard,  enwrapt  in  visions  sweet  and  high, 
Song  in  his  heart  and  glory  in  his  eye, 
The  blushing  virgin,  matron  stern  and  grave, 
Sophist  and  orator,  artisan  and  slave  ) 
The  idle  multitude,  with  hurrying  feet, 
All  wander  forth  the  opening  morn  to  greet, 
And  offer  up  at  an  unhallowed  shrine 
Worship  to  gods  they  vainly  deem  divine. 

Alone,  unhonored,  poor  in  wealth  and  fame, 

To  the  proud  city  the  apostle  came  ; 

Nerved  with  unwavering  trust  and  quenchless  faith, 

That  faltered  not  at  danger,  shame,  or  death, 

He  still  bore  onward  in  his  high  career, 

Stranger  to  human  pride  and  human  fear. 

At  Antioch,  on  shores  of  Macedon, 

In  bounds  of  Thessaly  andLycaone, 

In 'Syria,  where  fair  Damascus  held 

Her  sway  luxuriant,  renowned  from  eld, 

In  many  a  realm  of  that  broad  orient  clime, 

His  faithful  lips  had  preached  the  word  sublime. 

He  stood  in  Athens,  once  the  proud  and  free, 
City  of  wisdom,  arts,  and  liberty  ; 


ST.      PAUL      AT     ATHENS.  99 


Upon  the  hill  of  Mars,  where  round  him  shone 

The  boasted  pomp  of  glorious  ages  gone, 

Amid  the  monuments  of  taste  and  art, 

He  stood  communing  with  his  swelling  heart. 

Before  his  eye  a  gorgeous  prospect  lay, 

Rich  with  the  glory  of  the  dawning  day  5 

Afar,  Hymettas  rear'd  his  purple  head, 

Gemm'd  with  the  brightness  that  the  dew  had  shed, 

And  flowers  waving  to  the  rosy  air, 

Diffused  a  sweet  and  grateful  freshness  there; 

And  silvery  streams,  immortalized  in  song, 

Bounded  in  light,  their  verdant  banks  along, 

While  faint,  like   night-winds  sighing  through   the 

glade, 
Was  heard  the  music  that  the  ocean  made. 
Brightly  from  plain  and  wood-encircled  fount, 
From  fabled  dell,  and  cliff,  and  laurel Pd  mount, 
From  forests  sacred  to  the  gods  of  old, 
Where  fairest  flowers  their  starry  robes  unfold, 
The  bright  creations  of  the  sculptor's  hand 
Sprang  up,  like  visions  from  a  fairy  land, 
And  made  the  wondrous  scene  they  shadowed  forth 
A  beauty  and  a  marvel  to  the  earth. 


100  ST.      PAUL      AT     ATHENS, 


What  were  his  thoughts  1  Did  not  hisbreast  inflame 
With  eagle  dreams  of  science  and  df  fame  t. 
Did  not  a  smothered  longing  struggle  there 
For  things  his  creed  forbade  him  now  to  share  1 
The  exalted  lore,  by  master  spirits  wrought 
In  the  dim  chambers  of  their  voiceless  thought — 
The  burning  fancies,  breathless  and  intense, 
Which  the  song  wakens  with  its  eloquence — 
The  witching  smile  of  beauty,  and  the  looks 
Of  earnest  love  like  moonlight  over  brooks, — 
All  that  earth  numbers  as  its  chosen  things, 
And  all  to  which  the  earthly  spirit  clings : 
Were  these  the  objects  of  his  spirit's  strife, 
The  guiding  stars  that  swayed  his  very  life  ? 
No  !  holier  thoughts  possess  his  bosom  now, 
And  trace  their  record  on  his  humble  brow  ; 
He  wept — and  why  1    Behold  yon  restless  throng, 
For  ever  nursing,  as  they  pass  along, 
Unworthy  hopes,  aspirings  dark  and  vain, 
And  thoughts  held  down  by  error's  clinging  chain. 
The  voice  that  stirred  within  him  was  obeyed, 
He  spake  his  mission,  firm  and  undismayed ; 
Not  all  unheard,  although  the  sinful  crowd 
Reviled  his  faith  with  taunt  and  jeering  loud, 


ST.      PAUL      AT      ATHENS.  101 

And  looked  on  him  as  one  whose  brain  did  teem 
AVith  the  wild  fancies  of  an  idle  dream. 
Not  all  unheard  ;  but  few,  alas  !  were  they 
Who  heard  the  holy  mandate  to  obey  ; 
The  man  of  learning  stood  in  proud  disdain, 
Then  turned  him  to  his  cherished  lore  again, 
In  the  vain  hope  to  read,  with  blinded  eyes, 
The  mind  of  God,  the  wisdom  of  the  skies. 

The  bard  sat  listening,  till  there  shone  a  gleam 
Of  purer  light  along  his  soul's  vague  dream  \ 
Then  turned  he  too,  and  idly  sought  to  bring 
Light  from  on  high  upon  a  fettered  wing, 
Kindling  his  spirit  at  an  earthly  shrine 
That    should  have    burned    with   nought   but   fire 

divine. 
And  thus  were  all — the  mighty  and  the  low — 
All  sought,  but  idly  sought,  the  truth  to  know  ; 
But  few  were  willing  to  endure  the  strife, 
The  girded  warfare  of  the  Christian  life. 

Ages  have  passed !  The  ceaseless  stream  of  time 
-  on,  with  all  its  glory  and  its  crime, 


102 


S  T  , 


PAUL     AT     ATHENS, 


But  where  is  Athens'?  Ask  the  Paynim  slave 
That  treads  all  tearless  on  her  hallowed  grave  5 
Invoke  the  spirits  of  the  past,  and  shed 
The  voice  of  your  strong  bidding  on  the  dead. 
Lo  !  from  a  thousand  crumbling  tombs  they  rise, 
The  great  of  old,  the  powerful,  the  wise  5 
And  a  sad  tale,  which  none  but  they  can  tell, 
Falls  on  the  mournful  silence  like  a  knell. 
Then  mark  yon  lonely  pilgrim  bend  to  weep 
Above  the  shrine  where  genius  lies  in  sleep. 
And  is  this  all  1  alas  !  we  turn  in  vain, 
And,  turning,  meet  the  selfsame  waste  again, 
The  same  drear  wilderness  of  cold  decay ; 
Its  former  pride,  the  phantom  of  a  day — 
Like  songs  of  summer  birds  within  a  bower — 
A  dream  of  beauty  traced  upon  a  flower — 
A  lute,  whose  master  chord  hath  ceased  to  sound- 
A  morning  star,  struck  darkling  to  the  ground. 


And  such  is  Athens — such  is  Greece,  and  such 
The  glorious  land  Minerva  loved  so  much  : 
By  mount  and  stream,  by  cliff  and  storied  wave, 
Nought  now  remains  but  tokens  of  her  grave, 


ST.      PAUL      AT      ATHENS. 


103 


Save  the  immortal  names  that  cannot  die, 

Bright  as  her  clime,  and  fadeless  as  her  sky. 

Yet  that  scorned   word  the   Apostle  preached    of 

yore, 
Has  dawned  on  every  land,  and  gilded  every  shore, 
And  still  shall  live,  imparting  hope  sublime, 
A  beacon-light  along  the  waves  of  time. 


TO  THE  STARS. 


Whither,  lovely  orbs  of  night, 
Do  ye  hold  your  radiant  flight  1 
Sweeping  through  the  azure  sky, 
Beautiful,  unchangingly  ! 


Beautiful  ye  are,  and  mild, 
Like  the  fair  brow  of  a  child, — 
Or  the  light  that  melteth  through 
Woman's  gentle  eye  of  blu*e  ; 
Or  a  dream  of  youth,  when  care 
Stings  the  bosom  with  despair  ; 
Such  are  ye,  0  stars  of  night  1 
Burning  with  a  holy  light, 


TOTHESTARS.  105 

Ever — ever  mild  and  calm, 
Like  the  shadow  of  a  palm 
On  the  desert's  burning  sea, 
Bringing  hope  of  rest  to  be. 

Glorious  sabaoth  of  even, 
Keeping  silent  watch  in  heaven! 
When  the  twilight,  bright  and  still, 
Gathers  round  the  distant  hill, 
And  the  sweet  breath  of  the  flowers 
Flings  faint  incense  to  the  hours; 
Yc,  from  out  yon  azure  dome, 
Like  bright  dreams  of  bliss  to  come, 
Scatter  o'er  this  weary  earth 
Feelings  of  a  heavenly  birth. 

Beacon  lights  of  changing  Time, 
Quenchless — glorious — sublime — 
When  this  earthly  scene  shall  fade 
At  the  frown  of  Him  who  made  ; 
When  the  giant  hills  that  rise, 
Unbowed  beneath  the  sounding  skies — 
And  the  deep  and  wrathful  sea 
From  its  ancient  bounds  shall  flee — 


106  TO      THE      STARS. 


Ye  o'er  all  the  wreck  shall  shine, 
Lit  with  radiance  divine. 

Where,  at  last,  mid  realms  of  space, 
Shall  ye  find  a  resting  place  1 
Where  but  round  the  throne  of  Him 
In  whose  presence  suns  are  dim, 
Maker  of  the  things  that  be, 
Habiting  Eternity ! 

Lord  of  life  and  light !  we  bow 
In  the  dust  our  humbled  brow ; 
Now  in  this  our  earthly  hour, 
May  we  feel  thy  grace  and  power  ! 
Pilgrims  to  a  heavenly  shrine, 
Touch  our  hearts  with  flame  divine  ,* 
Then  when  earth  shall  pass  away 
As  a  dream  at  dawn  of  day, 
We,  like  stars  around  thy  throne, 
Robed  with  glory  all  thine  own, 
Shall,  through  never-ending  years, 
Shine  undimm'd  by  sin  and  tears, 
Glorious  with  thy  saints  in  bliss, 
Beautiful  in  holiness. 


SUNBEAMS  IN  MARCH. 

No  leaf  is  on  the  tree, 

No  wild-flower  in  the  vale, 
And  the  willow  boughs  swing  silently, 

In  the  strong  and  chill  March  gale  : 
But  the  merry  beams  of  the  vernal  sun 

Come  down  from  the  bright  blue  heaven, 
And  the  green  grass-blades,  0,  one  by  one, 

To  the  light  and  breeze  they're  given. 

The  summer  sun  is  bright, 

The  summer  beams  are  strong, 
But  I  love,  O  I  love  his  earliest  light, 

The  rays  that  to  March  belong  : 
Though  April  hath  warmer  smiles  than  March, 

And  May  hath  more  brilliant  sheen, 
I  love  the  fresh  hues  of  yon  glorious  arch, 

The  light  gray  clouds  between. 


THE  FIRST  BIRDS  IN  LENT. 


0,  your  earliest  notes  are  the  sweetest  yet, 

Birds  of  the  early  spring  ! 
Before  the  first  flower's  gem  is  set, 

In  the  green  glade's  fairy  ring  ; 
Your  earliest  notes  are  the  sweetest  yet, 

Though  they  sound  from  dead,  cold  woods  ; 
Ere  April's  verdant  coronet 

Makes  bright  their  solitudes. 


THE      FIRST     BIRDS      IN      LENT.  109 


'Tis  a  brilliant  day  in  the  Lenten  time, 

A  Sabbath  festival ! 
The  city  bells,  with  their  varied  chime, 

Soft  in  the  distance  swell. 
Mid  the  sound  of  the  gathering  worshippers, 

As  they  wend  to  the  house  of  prayer, 
A  silvery  strain  from  yon  maple,  stirs 

The  depths  of  the  bright  cool  air. 


0,  hear  ye  it  not,  mid  the  pause  and  fall 

Of  the  deep  organ's  notes'? 
That  silvery  strain — yes,  I  know  it  all! — 
O'er  the  very  aisles  it  floats. 

mingling  now  with  the  Gloria, 
Now  with  Te  Deum  swells, 

sic  too  blithe  for  a  Lenten  day, 
But  of  Easter-time  it  tells. 


110         THE     FIRST     BIRDS     IN     LENT, 


Sweet  strain  !  art  thou  not  like  the  tender  gleams 

Which  holy  church  reveals, 
Mid  gloom  of  Lenten  prayers  and  hymns, 

And  solemn  music  peals  1 
Tender  with  promise  of  joy  to  be 

When  the  Easter  morn  shall  break, 
And  the  church,  in  the  smile  of  her  risen  Lord, 

From  the  night  of  tears  shall  wake. 


Yes,  your  earliest  notes  are  the  sweetest  yet, 

Birds  of  the  early  spring  ! 
Like  the  light  which  breaks  on  the  eye  that's  wet 

With  the  tears  that  long  woes  bring — 
Like  rays  from  the  cross  and  the  throne  in  heaven, 

That  o'er  Lent  vigils  shine  ; 
Glimpses  of  Christ  midst  fastings  given, 

Transient,  but  all  divine. 


THE  OLD  ELM-TREE. 


The  old  elm-tree  is  standing  yet, 

He's  grown  both  broad  and  tall, 
His  roots  in  the  earth  are  firmly  set, 

Beside  the  church-yard  wall. 
A  lowly  mound  beneath  him  lies, 

And  the  grass  is  green  thereon — 
'Tis  wet  by  the  rain  from  the  blessed  skies, 
And  warmed  by  the  blessed  sun. 

O,  the  old  elm-tree,  the  old  elm-tree, 

That  stands  by  the  church-yard  wall, 
No  forest-elm  more  strong  than  he, 
No  forest-elm  more  tall. 


112  THE      OLD      ELM -TREE. 

The  old  elm-tree  is  standing  yet 

O'er  a  good  man's  place  of  rest, 
The  tree  was  his,  for  he  planted  it, 

And  he  loved  it  aye  the  best ; 
He  was  wont  to  sit  in  its  pleasant  shade, 

When  the  summer  sun  was  high  ; 
And  his  quiet  study  there  was  made, 

When  burned  the  autumn  sky. 
0,  the  old  elm-tree,  &c. 


The  old  elm-tree  is  standing  yet, 

His  boughs  are  now  all  bare, 
But  a  few  bright  weeks  of  spring  will  set 

Greenness  and  beauty  there  ; 
0  yes  ;  and  o'er  that  good  man's  grave 

The  leaves  shall  cluster  then, 
And  birds  shall  sing  and  branches  wave 

Right  merrily  agen. 

0,  the  old  elm-tree,  &c. 


THE      OLD      ELM -TREE.  113 

The  old  elm-tree  is  standing  yet, 

But  the  good  old  man  is  gone  : 
Gramercy,  sirs  ! — but  my  eye  is  wet 

With  thinking  thereupon. 
We  see  him  not  in  the  warden's  pew, 

Beside  the  chancel-door  ; 
And  his  full  response,  so  prompt  and  true, 

We  shall  hear  that  voice  no  more. 
0,  the  old  elm-tree,  &c. 


The  old  elm-tree  is  standing  yet  ; 

Beside  the  church  he  loved  5 
But  he,  in  the  Lord's  own  garden's  set, 

A  true  branch  well  approved  ; 
Like  yon  old  elm,  he  withstood  the  storm, 

And  flourish'd  well  for  years, 
He's  gone  where  sin  hath  no  blast  to  harm, 

Where  life  hath  no  blight  nor  tears. 
0,  the  old  elm-tree,  &c. 


114  THE      OLD     ELM-TREE, 

The  old  elm-tree  is  standing  yet 

Beside  the  church-yard  wall, 
But  the  good  churchman  that  planted  it 

His  place  is  vacant  all. 
But  weep  not,  friends !  he's  gone  to  heaven. 

To  heavenly  praise  from  prayer; 
Te  Deum  Laudamus!  to  us  be  given 
To  meet  the  old  man  there. 

0,  the  old  elm-tree,  the  old  elm-tree, 

That  stands  by  the   church-yard  wall, 
No  forest  elm  more  strong  than  he, 
No  forest  elm  more  tall. 


i 


THE  EARLY  DEAD. 


ADDRESSED    TO    A    BROTHER    IN    AFFLICTION. 


Oro  supplcx  et  acclinis 
Cor  contritum  quasi  cinis 
Gere  curam  mei  finis. 


There's  a  sound  of  mourning,  brother, 

Where  sweet  peace  was  wont  to  reign  ; 
One  was  called,  and  then  another. 

Death  came  once,  and  came  again; 
Sadly,  in  the  dreamless  slumber 

Of  the  quiet  grave  they  fell ; 
Darkly,  with  the  countless  number 

Of  the  early  dead  they  dwell. 


116  THE     EARLY     DEAD 


We  have  sorrow'd  with  thee,  brother ! 

For  the  loved — the  lost — the  dead  5 
It  is  well,  we  would  not  smother 

Grief  so  pure,  so  hallowed  ; 
It  is  good  to  weep  when  sadness 

Brings  its  own  most  precious  balm  ; — 
Grief  resigned,  and  tearful  gladness, 

Hope  midst  mourning,  bright  and  calm. 


They  are  gone  to  heaven,  brother ! — 

Christian  father,  dry  your  tears  \ 
They  were  Christ's,  0  Christian  mother! 

Christ's  alone  from  earliest  years  5 — 
His,  by  word  and  sign  baptismal, 

His  by  grace  in  baptism  given  ! 
From  earth's  deserts  cold  and  dismal 

He  has  taken  them  to  heaven. 


THE      EARLY     DEAD.  117 


In  the  verdant  spring-time,  brother ! 

In  the  holy  weeks  of  Lent, 
To  one  bright  one  and  another 

Was  the  Saviour's  summons  sent. 
From  the  sunshine  and  the  flowers 

From  the  vigil,  fast  and  prayer, 
They  are  gone  to  fadeless  bowers, 

Free,  for  aye,  from  sin  and  care. 


We  shall  meet  them  there,  my  brother  ! 

Christian  father,  dry  your  tears  : 
They  were  Christ's,  0  Christian  mother ! 

Christ's  alone  from  earliest  years. 
To  the  father-land  above  us 

He  has  called  them — weep  no  more  ; 
Think  ye  that  our  children  love  us 

Leu  because  their  pains  are  o'er  1 


G-LIMPSES  OF  CHILDHOOD. 

Oh,  the  April  beams  on  the  green  hill-side 

How  goldenly  they  lie  ! 
Where  the  vernal  grass  in  its  virgin  pride 

Seems  laughing  to  the  sky  ; 
Where  the  dandelion,  scentless  yet, 

Its  yellow  petals  spreads, 
And  the  modest  leaves  of  the  violet 

Peep  out  from  mossy  beds. 


A  bright  young  child,  with  flaxen  hair 

And  blue  eyes  bathed  in  light, 
And  sunny  brow,  is  lingering  there 

Grave  in  her  young  delight ; — 
A  shade  of  awe  and  of  wonder  blent 

With  her  cherub  smile  of  hope, 
Like  a  shadowy  line  of  soft  cloud  bent 

O'er  a  clear  horizon's  scope. 


GLIMPSES     OF      CHILDHOOD.  II' 

I  had  spoken  to  her  of  the  blessed  spring, 

Of  the  grass,  and  birds,  and  flowers, 
And  of  Hi^r  who  made  each  beauteous  tiling, 

The  light,  and  the  sunny  hours  ; 
"W  itli  parted  lips  and  a  kindling  eye, 

She  listened  to  my  words, 
Then  asked — "  Does  he  who  dwells  on  high 

Listen  to  those  dear  birds  1 


"  And  has  He  made  these  flowers,  that  lie 

All  over  where  we  tread ; 
Does  He  watch   them   all  from   that    wide  bright 
sky  1»— 

ceased,  and  bowed  her  head  ; 
Then,  half  in  wonder  and  half  in  joy, 

To  her  rosy  lips  she  pressed 
The  violets  wreathed  round  her  favorite  toy 
And  said — "  the  flowers  are  blest." 


120  GLIMPSES     OF     CHILDHOOD 


"  May  I  stay  with  these  sweet  flowers  awhile  1- 

When  God  looks  down  to  see 
If  they  are  safe,  perhaps  his  smile 

Will  notice  even  meP 
And  away  she  sprang  to  the  green  hill-side 

With  her  young  heart  full  of  love  \ 
And  I  prayed  that  Christ,  for  such  who  died, 

Would  shield  her  from  above. 


O,  childhood  is  like  an  April  day, 

With  its  blue  and  brilliant  sky, 
Fresh  grass  beneath,  so  green  alway, 

Light,  silvery  clouds  on  high  \ — 
It  roveth  ever  mid  early  flowers 

Which  summer's  sun  shall  blight, 
And  it  smileth  ever  'neath  golden  hours 

Unmindful  of  the  night. 


GLIMPSES      OF      CHILDHOOD 


121 


Vet  a  heart  of  guileless  love  it  hath, 

And  a  quick  bright  sense  of  truth, 
A  spirit,  winged  for  the  upward  path, 

In  its  beautiful,  trusting  youth. 
A  nature  instinct  with  glorious  powers 

In  folding  one  by  one, 
'Neath  genial  suns  and  kindly  showers 

Which  bless  what  they  fall  upon. 


AUGUSTUS  FOSTEH   LYDE. 


The  morn,  whose  clear  uprise 
Is  rich  with  promise  of  a  briliant  day, 
Often,  amid  the  gloom  of  clouded  skies 

Fades  suddenly  away. 

Thy  morning',  Lyde,  was  blest 
With  tokens  of  a  day  of  strength  and  power, 
But  thou  wert  called  to  thine  eternal  rest 

In  its  most  brilliant  hour. 


And  many  were  the  tears 
We  shed  for  thee,  dear  brother  !  for  we  wept 
One  on  whose  spirit  in  its  earliest  years 

Manhood's  high  promise  slept. 


AUGUSTUS     FOSTER      LYDE.  L23 


For  thine  was  manly  truth, 
And  high  devotion,  and  unwearied  zeal, 
And  wisdom  which  the  ardent  mind  of  youth 

But  rarely  doth  reveal  ; — 


An  intellect,  whose  range 
Was  in  the  highest,  loveliest  realms  of  thought 
A  heart,  above  all  fickleness  and  change, 

With  its  deep  love  unbought. 


Richly  the  spirit  dwelt 
Within  thee  in  its  sanctifying  power, 
Its  holy  energy,  most  deeply  felt 

In  nature's  weakest  hour. 


Thy  spirit  burned  to  tell 
The  tidings  of  redeeming  love,  to  those 
Whom  Bin  hath  circled  in  its  darkest  spell 

Of  ignorance  and  woes. 


124     AUGUSTUS  FOSTER  LYDE, 


Thou  didst  devote  thy  life 
To  bear  the  glorious  name  of  Christ  abroad, 
Where  China's  deep  idolatries  are  rife 

With  the  contempt  of  God. 


But  thou  wert  called  away 
Ere  thou  hadst  fully  bound  thine  armor  on, 
From  the  drear  strife  of  earth  to  endless  day, 

From  toil  to  glory  won. 


Thy  parting  words  were  fraught 
With  mournful  presage  of  thine  early  fate, 
As  thy  mind  lingered  in  prophetic  thought 

On  hopes  made  desolate. 


We  love  to  think  of  thee  ; 
To  fancy  thy  calm  presence  with  us  yet, 
As  one  of  those  sweet  stars  of  memory 

Which  never  wane  nor  set. 


MORNING-  HYMNS. 


I. 


FATHER    OF    LIGHTS !    ENTHRONED    SUPREME. 

Father  of  lights  !  enthroned  supreme 
In  changeless  majesty  on  high, 

Thine  is  the  morning's  earliest  gleam, 
Thine  the  full  splendor  of  the  sky. 

Refreshed  by  slumber  sweet  and  calm 
Through  the  dark  watches  of  the  night, 

With  morning's  rise  of  health  and  balm, 
We  rise  to  bless  thee,  God  of  lio-ht ! 


Thy  sleepless  eye  has  watch'd  our  rest, 
Thy  hand  protected  our  repose  ; 

By  thee  the  hours  of  sleep  were  blest 
From  eventide  till  morning  rose. 


126  MORNING     HYMNS. 


From  morning's  rise  till  set  of  sun, 
Be  with  us  and  protect  us  still, 

And  may  this  day,  in  praise  begun, 
Be  spent  in  doing  all  thy  will. 


Bless  us,  when  studying  thy  word  ; 

Bless  us  with  grace,  that  we  may  find 
In  learning's  path  thy  wisdom,  Lord  ! 

To  elevate  and  cheer  the  mind. 


Be  with  us  when  with  thankful  hearts 
Around  the  social  board  we  meet, 

Protecting  love  and  health  impart, 

When  pleasure  tempts  our  willing  feet. 


And  when  in  pleasant  converse  dear, 
We  meet  to  close  the  varied  day, 

Be  gladness  hallowed  by  thy  fear, 
And  sorrow  cheered  by  mercy's  ray. 


M  ORNING     H  V  M  N  3  .  I'll 


II. 


LORD,    WHEN    MORNING'S    LIGHT    IS    STREAMINl . . 


Lord,  when  morning's  light  is  streaming 

From  the  portals  of  the  sky, 
And  the  earth,  in  brightness  gleaming, 

Lifts  her  voice  of  praise  on  high, 
Hear  and  bless  us,  hear  and  bless  us 

As  our  feeble  praise  we  try. 

When  the  universe  rejoices 
In  the  light  bestowed  by  thee, 

Touch  our  hearts,  attune  our  voices 
To  sweet  strains  of  harmony  ; 

Hear  and  bless  us,  hear  and  bless  us 
As  our  praises  rise  to  thee. 

Visit  us  with  thy  salvation, 
Day  by  day  our  hearts  renew, 

ogth  impart  and  consolation, 
Aid  and  bless  in  all  we  do, 

Till  our  praises,  till  our  praises 

Round  thy  throne  in  heaven  shall  flow. 


128  MORNING     HYMNS. 

III. 

SWIFTLY    THE    SHADES    OF    NIGHT    RETIRE. 

Swiftly  the  shades  of  night  retire 
Before  the  morning's  brilliant  ray  ; 

The  eastern  clouds,  all  tipp'd  with  fire, 
Chased  by  the  sunlight,  break  away. 


O'er  hill  and  dale,  o'er  wood  and  stream 
The  gladd'ning  tide  of  light  is  pour'd  ; 

Awakened  by  th'  inspiring  beam 
Earth  utters  praises  to  the  Lord. 


We  wake,  with  morning's  eastern  fire, 
By  slumbers  sweet,  refresh'd  and  blest  ) 

Lord,  touch  our  hearts;  our  souls  inspire 
To  praise  thee  for  our  tranquil  rest. 


Shine  on  us,  Sun  of  Bighteousness  ! 

Dispel  the  darkness  of  our  souls  5 
With  peace  our  daily  labors  bless, 

And  all  our  thoughts  and  deeds  control. 


MORNING      HYMNS.  129 

IV. 

THE    LARK    IS    UP. 

The  lark  is  up  ;  his  matin  song 

To  the  sweet  winds  of  morn  is  given, 

Rejoicing,  as  with  pinion  strong 

He  soars  toward  the  gate  of  heaven. 


The  joyous  birds,  in  hedge  and  tree, 
Their  early  carols  have  begun, 

And  mid  the  flowers  the  busy  bee 
Begins  her  labors  with  the  sun. 


Thus  may  our  hearts  at  dawn  of  day, 
E'en  like  the  lark,  to  heaven  arise, 

And  with  the  birds,  in  praise  alway, 
Adore  our  Saviour  in  the  skies. 

Contented  with  our  lot,  may  we 

Our  every  duty  gladly  do, 
And  daily,  with  the  happy  bee, 

Our  life  of  happy  toil  renew. 
9 


EVENING  HYMNS. 


V. 


BRIGHT    IN    HIS    COURSE    ON    HIGH. 


Air — "  Far,  far  o'er  hill  and  dell."  See  Kingsley's  Social  Choir,  Vol. 
I.  page  149. 

Bright  in  his  course  on  high, 
O'er  the  hills  bending, 

Down  the  red  western  sky- 
Slowly  descending, 

Lo  !  the  proud  orb  of  day, 

Sheds  his  departing  ray, 

With  the  clouds,  far  away, 
Brilliantly  blending. 


B  v  B  N  1  N  G     HYMNS.  131 


On  the  calm  river's  breast, 

lines  are  sleeping, 
Imaging  hearts  at  rest, 

In  the  Lord's  keeping; — 
Preluding  day's  farewell 
Soft  airs  of  evening  swell ; 
Far  over  hill  and  dell, 

Like  music,  sweeping. 


As  fades  the  light  of  day, 

Youth's  joys  are  fading; 
Soon  their  most  cloudless  ray 

Care  will  be  shading  ; 
Let  us  then  seek  for  light, 
Cloudless  and  ever  bright, 
Hope's  day  and  sorrow's  night 
eetly  pervadin 


132  EVENING     HYMNS 


Sisters  !  when  called  to  part, 

School  ties  to  sever, 
When  youth's  bright  days  are  past 

From  us  forever, 
May  we  remember  then 
His  love  who  died  for  men, 
Slighting  his  grace  again, 

Never,  0  never. 


So  when  life's  shadows  creep, 

Round  us  in  sadness, 
Jesus  our  hearts  shall  keep 
Safe  from  sin's  madness  $ 
Help  us  to  love  and  pray, 
Labor  and  watch  alway, 
Shed  round  our  dying  day 
Heavenly  gladness.  4 


E  V  E  N  I  N  G      H  YMNS.  133 


VI. 


EVENING    PARTING    HYMN. 

Words  altered  and  adapted  to  the  air  in  Kingsley's  Social  Choir,  Vol. 
re  131. 

Bright  be  our  parting,  where 

Brightly  we've  met  ; 
Voices  of  music  are  • 

Echoing  yet  ; 
Tones  that  we  love  to  hear, 
Swell  on  the  listening  ear, 
Hark  now,  in  accents  clear 

Singing,  good  night ! 


God  and  good  angels  bright 
Watch  o?er  our  sleep ! 

Bless  us  with  slumbers  light, 
Peaceful  and  deep, 

Watched  by  His  sleepless  eye, 

While  each  fair  star  on  hig-h. 

o 

Bends  from  the  quiet  sky, 
Looking,  good  night ! 


134?  EVENING     HYMNS 


Brief  be  our  parting  where 

Gladly  we'll  meet  5 
Morning  shall  call  us,  each 

Other  to  greet. 
Sweet  be  our  rest  in  him 
Till  the  bright  stars  are  dim, 
And  the  earth's  matin  hymn 
.     Breaks  on  the  night. 


VII. 

THE    HEART'S    SINCERE    DEVOTION. 

The  heart's  sincere  devotion 

To  thee,  O  God,  we  owe ; 
To  thee  may  each  emotion 

In  holy  rapture  flow. 
Before  thy  footstool  kneeling, 

A  youthful  band  are  we  ; 
May  every  thought  and  feeling 

Be  sanctified  by  thee. 


E  V  E  N  I  N  G      H  V  M  N  S  .  135 

In  wisdom's  richest  treasures 

Teach  us,  O  Lord,  to  find 
Those  pure  and  noble  pleasures 

Which  satisfy  the  mind  5 
With  thy  most  gracious  favor 

Regard  and  guide  our  youth, 
And  aid  our  weak  endeavor 

To  seek  and  know  the  truth. 


In  all  our  youthful  duties 

Sustain  and  bless  us  still  5 
Reveal  to  us  the  beauties 

Of  thine  own  word  and  will. 
Teach  us  to  seek  thy  glory, 

And  live  to  thee  alone, 
That  so  we  may  adore  thee 

Around  thy  heavenly  throne. 


136  EVENING     HYMNS. 


VIII. 

HOW    SWEET    WHEN    DAILY    TOILS    ARE    DONE. 

How  sweet,  w*hen  daily  toils  are  done, 
To  meet,  O  God,  before  thy  throne, 
To  praise  thee  for  thy  ceaseless  love, 
And  ask  thy  blessing  from  above. 

Father !  thine  eye  has  marked  our  way 
Through  all  the  changes  of  the  day  ; 
Thy  presence  has  been  with  us  still, 
In  joy  or  pain,  in  good  or  ill. 

If  in  the  duties  of  this  day, 
Our  time,  misspent,  has  passed  away, 
Make  us  more  earnest  to  repair 
The  waste,  by  future  zeal  and  care. 

If  sinful  thoughts  our  souls  have  stirred, 
If  we  in  word  or  deed  have  erred, 
Humbly  thy  pardon  we  implore, 
And  pray  that  we  may  sin  no  more, 


E  V  E  N  I  N  G      II  V  M  N  9 


137 


If  oft  our  youthful  hearts  have  strayed 
From  thee,  nor  sought  thy  gracious  aid, 

;\e  us,  Lord,  and  grant  that  we 
May  of  thy  love  more  mindful  be. 

Be  thou,  O  God,  our  guide  and  stay! 

Be  with  us  on  life's  future  way, 

Safe  may  we  pass  through  death's  cold  gloom, 

And  rise,  immortal,  from  the  tomb. 


For  the  idea  and  some   of  the  language  of  the  following  little  poem 
the  author  is  indebted  to  Mr.  Coxe's  Christian  Ballads. 

FOB,  A  BOTANICAL  EXCURSION. 


We  go — we  go 
Where  the  green  leaves  grow, 

And  the  wild  vines  flourish  fair  ; 
Where  the  sweet  perfume 
Of  the  woodland's  bloom 

Is  abroad  on  the  summer  air  ! 
Where  the  violet 
With  the  dew  is  wet 

On  the  banks  of  the  crystal  streams, 
And  the' lily-bell 
In  the  mossy  dell 

Waves  in  the  checkered  beams. 
We  go — we  go 
Where  the  green  leaves  grow, 

And  the  wild  vines  flourish  fair; 
Where  the  sweet  perfume 
Of  the  woodland's  bloom 

Is  abroad  on  the  summer  air. 


FOR      A      BOTANICAL      EXCURSION.      139 


II. 

For  a  soft  light  smiles 
Through  the  forest  aisles, 

And  sleeps  on  the  moss  below  ; 
And  the  merry  tune 
Of  the  birds  in  June 

Sings  welcome,  as  we  go  ; 
Where  the  walnut  trees 
Wave  in  the  breeze, 

And  the  broad  elms  cast  their  shade, 
The  bell-flowers  nod 
O'er  the  verdant  sod, 

And  the  Cornus  weaves  its  braid. 
The  Rubus  glows 
In  green  hedge-rows, 

And  the  brilliant  laurels  bloom  ; 
And  the  woodbines  cling 
Where  the  alders  spring 

In  the  gray  rock's  pleasant  gloom. 


140       FOR     A     BOTANICAL     EXCURSION 


III. 

We  go — we  go 

Where  the  wild  flowers  grow, 

To  the  wood — the  dells — the  streams  ; 
In  the  early  morn 
When  the  day  is  born 

Midst  the  dawn's  reviving  beams  ; — 
In  the  sunset  hour, 
When  tree  and  flower 

Are  bathed  in  loveliest  hues  5 
In  the  silver  light 
Of  the  June  twilight, 

Sweet  sister  of  the  dews. 
Oh  then  we  go 
Where  the  green  leaves  grow, 

And  the  wild  vines  flourish  fair ; 
Where  the  sweet  perfume 
Of  the  woodland's  bloom 

Is  abroad  on  the  summer  air. 


LAKE  GEORGE  AT  MIDNIGHT. 


How  beautifully  calm,  how  lone 
Beneath  the  summer  midnight,  lie 

Thy  lovely  waters,  Horicon  ! 

Imaged  with  hues  from  earth  and  sky. 

Around  thee,  as  a  guardian  band, 
Wierd,  wild  and  green,  the  mountains  stand, 
By  night's  enchanting  wand  arrayed 
In  softest  tints  of  light  and  shade. 
Or,  frowning  o'er  the  rugged  shore, 
Like  ancient  castles  stern  and  hoar, 
Upon  whose  fancied  tower  and  keep, 
Strong  warrior  forms  are  seen  to  sleep  ; 
While  dark  and  cold  above  them  rise, 
Gray  cliffs  that  seem  to  touch  the  skies, 
Relieved  by  fairy  spots  of  green, 
And  pine  groves  interposed  between. 


142 


LAKE      GEORGE      AT     MIDNIGHT. 


Lovely  and  mild,  the  summer  moon 
Floats  through  the  cloudless  skies  of  June, 
Slowly,  as  if  long  watch  to  keep, 
O'er  giant  height  and  sparkling  deep. 
Her  rays,  with  softer,  sweeter  glow, 
Are  mirror'din  the  lake  below; 
And  o'er  the  verdant  isles  that  stud 
The  bosom  of  the  crystal  flood, 
She  sheds,  divinely  soft  and  clear, 
Midnight's  serenest  atmosphere. 


MORNING-. 


Faintly  the  young  moon's  silver  horn 
Gleamed  through  the  light  gray  clouds  of  morn, 
Where  the  crimson  tints  of  dawn  were  blent 
With  the  deepening  blue  of  the  firmament, 
And  the  tremulous  gloom  on  wave  and  shore 
ilelted  away  as  the  light  came  o'er. 
On  high,  the  first  sweet  smiles  of  day, 
As  half  in  anger  and  half  in  play, 
Seemed  laughing  the  lingering  clouds  away  : 
And  the  waning  stars  that  all  night  long 
Had  marshalled  there  their  glittering  throng, 
In  the  doubtful  light  grew  paler  yet, 
And  faded  away  ere  the  young  moon  set. 


144  MORNING 


Below,  through  the  tops  of  the  mountain  pines, 

On  the  broad  unbroken  forest  screen, 
O'er  the  bright-leaved  sycamore's  silent  lines 

With  their  wealth  of  leaves  and  depth  of  green, 
The  mellow  light  of  morning  fell, 
And  slept,  like  a  spirit,  on  rock  and  dell. 
Day  broke  at  length  all  radiantly 
O'er  sleeping  earth  and  bending  sky  ; 
The  heavy  mists  rolled  fast  and  free 
From  mountain  gorge  and  summit  high ) 
Midst  purple  mists  and  clouds  of  gold 
The  morning  sun  rose  bright  and  bold, 
And  swiftly  o'er  the  quiet  hills, 

O'er  blue  lake  and  grim  mountain  side, 
O'er  the  dense  woods  and  upland  rills, 

Swept  wave  on  wave,  the  golden  tide. 


310  B  N  1  X  G  .  14-5 

The  forest  depths  are  cool  and  green, 

The  forest  paths  are  quiet  yet, 
And  the  soft  light  sheds  its  mystic  sheen 

On  the  leaves  which  the  dews  have  wet. 
Through  the  close  canopy  above, 

Falls  here  and  there  a  brilliant  ray> 
Like  the  gleam  on  the  breast  of  the  forest  dove 

When  she  looks  from  her  nest  at  the  close  of  day. 
Through  the  cool  and  verdant  aisles  it  steals, 

And  glides,  like  a  sprite,  o'er  the  moss  below  ; 
And  the  snake  in  his  coiled  slumber  feels 

Its  fresh  warm  kiss,  and  loves  it  too. 
It  has  startled  the  stag  in  the  hunting  track, 
And  the  wish-ton-wish  in  the  tamarack. 
The  timid  deer  was  up  and  away 
From  his  lair  of  leaves  at  the  dawn  of  day, 
For  he  seeks  the  brook  and  the  tender  grass 
In  the  old  familiar  mountain  pass. 


10 


ALDEBARAN. 

A    SONG    OF    TIME'S    CHANGES. 

'Twas  deepest  night.     The  winter  moon  hung  low, 
Floating  along  the  distant  verge  of  heaven, 
Full  orbed  and  brilliant ;  and  the  myriad  stars, 
Afar  in  their  unbroken  fields  of  blue, 
Burned  with  a  bright  cold  lustre.      Earth  and  sea 
Lay  hushed  in  sweet  repose.     The  hills  and  plains, 
Robed  in  the  glittering  garments  of  the  snow, 
Smiled  in  the  silvery  radiance  ;  and  the  woods 
Were  decked  with  fairy  tracery  of  ice, 
Casing  the  boughs  with  crystal,  and  the  leaves 
With  net-work,  as  of  woven  light  and  gems. 
Low  hanging  in  the  Occident  with  light, 
Ruddy,  yet  not  less  beautiful  than  that 
With  which  the  countless  orbs  around  him  shone, 
Was  Aldebaran,  brave  old  sentinel, — 
Hoar  watcher  on  the  battlements  of  heaven  ! 
The  regent  of  the  night  he  seemed  ;  and  when 
I  looked  upon  the  congregated  stars 


A  L  D  E  B  ARAN.  117 

Burning-  around  him,  rank  on  rank,  afar, 

Rejoicing  in  the  upper  sky,  or  faint 

Upon  the  hlue  horizon,  there  arose 

Within  my  mind  high  thoughts  ofHi^r,  whose  hand 

Had   spread  those  boundless  fields  of  space,  and 

formed 
Those  myriad  orbs,  and  traced  their  glorious  path 
Around  his  throne  : — who  reigns  beyond  them  all, 
Throned  in  a  glory,  inaccessible 
To  mortal  thought,  a  light  invisible 
To  mortal  eye; — adored  by  shining  hosts, 
Whose  brilliancy  and  number  these  fair  stars 
But  faintly  image  to  the  eye  of  man. — 
Adorable  Creator,  Ruler  wise, 
The  God  of  nature  and  of  Providence  ; 
Author  and  finisher  of  Redemption's  work, 
Jehovah  God  Triune,  the  first,  the  last. 

In  musings  such  as  these,  I  saw  the  moon 
Go  down  behind  the  hills ;  and  as  I  gazed 
Upon  the  orb  of  Aldebaran,  all 
The p<ist  of  earth,  on  which  bis  beams  had  shone, 
And  for  long  ages  chr  nicled  in  light, 

vividly  before  me,  and  my  thoughts 
shaped  themselves  in  song. — 


148  ALDEBARAN. 

Strange  things  and  sad  thine  eye  hath  seen, 

Old  watcher  of  the  night! 
Since  first  on  this  creation's  scene 

Dawned  thine  unwasting  light  \ 
Since,  young  and  glorious,  on  thy  way 
Ere  yet  time  was,  or  night  or  day, 

Thou  sprangest  at  God's  word, 
And  with  thy  radiant  peers  didst  sing 
High  praise  to  the  Eternal  King, 
Causing  the  boundless  heaven  to  ring 

With  praises  to  the  Lord. 


On  Eden's  green  luxuriant  bowers, 

Nightly  thy  radiance  fell, 
Shining  through  long  and  blissful  hours 

On  grove  and  lawn  and  dell. 
The  silvery  brooks  laughed  on  their  way, 
Illumined  by  thy  ruddy  ray, 

'Neath  the  soft  summer  air  ; 
When  hand  in  hand,  through  paths  of  green, 
Admiring  all  the  beauteous  scene 
In  innocence  and  peace  serene, 

Journeyed  th'  unfallen  pair. 


A  L  D  B  B  A  R  A  N  .  149 

Thou  Baw'st  that  wild  terrific  day, 

That  day  of  sin  and  ire, 
When  guilt,  confounded,  shrank  away 

Before  the  sword  of  fire. 
Thy  light  shone  on  the  desert  path 
Which  they,  pursued  by  storms  of  wrath, 

In  tears  and  sorrow  trod  ; 
No  more  to  linger  in  the  light 
Of  Eden's  bowers  unstained  and  bright, 
Deathless  no  more,  expelled  from  sight 

Of  their  offended  God. 


When  sweet  with  balmy  winds  and  dews, 

The  summer  night  came  on, 
Thou  saw'st,  amidst  the  twilight  hues, 

A  corse,  cold,  bloody,  wan  ; — 
A  corse,  outstretched  upon  the  sand, 
A  brother  slain  by  brother's  hand, 

And  o'er  it,  in  wild  wo, 
Father  and  mother  speechless  bent, 

.  'jiiestioning  death's  intent 
In  Lrrief,  in  silence  eloquent 

With  more  than  words  can  show. 


150  ALDEBARAN, 


The  drowning  cry  of  earth  went  up, 

Madly  into  thine  ear  ; 
Thou  saw' st  the  shoreless  waves  o'ertop 

Each  mountain  summit  drear  ; 
Thou  saw'st  the  ark  outride  the  flood, 
And,  guided  by  the  hand  of  God, 

On  hoar  Ararat  rest ; 
And  when  in  holy  gratitude, 
Before  his  offering  Noah  stood, 
Adoring  Him,  the  great,  the  good, 

By  whom  his  faith  was  blest. 


On  Babel's  tower  thy  lustre  shone— 

On  Nimrod's  wanderings  wild — 
On  Abraham's  toils  and  travels  lone — 

On  Hagar  and  her  child  ; — 
On  that  dread  mount  where  faith  upreared 
The  altar,  at  God's  word  revered, 

For  sacrifice  of  blood  ; 
What  time  the  faithful  patriarch  heard, 
Mid  tears  of  joy,  the  promise  word 
Prophetic  of  the  Saviour  Lord> 

Jesus,  Incarnate  Gob. 


ALDEBARAN.  15 1 

On  Joseph's  prison-walls  thy  beams 

Through  nights  of  sorrow  fell, 
On  Gosheifs  fruitful  fields  and  streams, 

Where  Jacob  came  to  dwell ; 
On  the  blest  patriarch's  dying  bed, 
When  tearful  Israel  bowed  the  head, 

Mourning  a  saint  at  rest ; 
On  Joseph's  dying  hour,  whence  wo 
And  hard  oppression  'gan  to  flow 
From  Egypt's  kings,  who  ceased  to  know 

The  God  they  once  confessed. 


When  wrath  upon  the  oppressors  came, 

And  Israel,  freed  at  length, 
Went  out  beneath  the  cloud  and  flame, 

Strong  in  Jehovah's   strength, 
Thy  light  shone  on  the  parted  flood, 
The  scene  of  overthrow  and  b'lood, 

The  desert  and  the  rock  ; 
And  when  in  all  its  stern  repose 
The  awful  Mount  before  them  rose, 
Curtained  with  gloom  by  him  who  chose 

That  people  for  his  flock. 


152  ALDEBARAN, 


'Twere  long  to  tell  of  all  the  change, 

The  strife — the  sin — the  wo — 
Successes  proud,  reverses  strange, 

Triumph  and  overthrow — 
The  long  years  of  captivity, 
Endured  in  tears  and  misery, 

The  joyous  journey  home  , — 
The  long  and  varied  history 
Of  the  Prophetic  age,  till  He, 
Promised  from  ancient  days,  should  be 

Hailed  as  Messiah  come. 


Thou  saw'st  the  shepherds'  vigil  lone 
On  plains  of  Bethlehem, 

When  light  from  heaven  around  them  shone, 
And  pealed  th'  angelic  hymn. 

Thy  light  on  all  Christ's  earthly  life, 

With  trial,  scorn  and  sorrow  rife, 
Gleam'd  changeless  and  serene — 

When  praying  'neath  the  midnight  sky, 

When  wrestling  on  Gethsemane, 

And  when  he  hung  on  Calvary- 
God  suffering  for  men. 


A  L  D  E  B  AR  A  X.  153 

On  Canaan's  fruitful  plains  and  hills 

Thy  ruddy  lustre  shone, 
"Where  green  leaves  waved,  and  laughing  rills 

In  light  and  song  flowed  on  ; 
On  the  first  idol-shrines  that  there 
Were  reared  for  sacrifice  and  prayer, 

To  gods  of  wood  and  stone  5 
On  Samuel's  infant  prayers  and  tears 
His  life  of  toil,  his  godly  years  ; 
On  Saul's  rebellion,  sins  and  fears, 

By  pride  accursed,  undone  5 


On  Sion's  courts,  where  David's  lyre 

Awoke  celestial  strains, 
Thou  lookedst  with  thine  eye  of  fire  : 

And  o'er  Judea's  plains 
Thou  saw'st  the  first  grand  temple  rise 
All  glorious,  beneath  the  skies, 

In  marble  majesty  5 
Thou  sawest  Israel's  tribes  go  up 
From  plain  and  vale  to  Sion's  top, 
(  hi  that  high  shrine  to  offer  up 

Praise  to  the  Deity. 


154-  ALDEBARAN, 

Thou  saw'st  enthroned  upon  her  hills, 

And  calm  in  conscious  power, 
Old  Rome  her  ordered  task  fulfil 

For  the  Messiah's  hour. 
From  Britain's  isle  to  where  the  sea 
Sweeping  round  shores  of  Araby 

Laves  the  far  Orient, 
Thou  sawest  her  triumphant  way; 
The  nations,  tranquil  'neath  her  sway, 
Waiting  the  dawn  of  Gospel  day, 

The  promised  Word's  intent. 


When  the  Barbaric  deluge  swept 

Fiercely  o'er  fallen  Rome, 
And  Europe  long  in  darkness  slept, 

In  ignorance  and  gloom  : — 
When  freed  from  superstition's  chain 
The  mind  of  man  was  strong  again  ; 

And  truth's  celestial  ray 
Dawned  on  the  nations,  faintly  seen, 
Obscured,  as  she  hath  ever  been, 
With  earthly  hues,  still  bright,  serene, 

Dispersing  error's  night. 


A  L  D  E  B  A  R  A  N  .  155 


On  England's  martyr-pyres  thy  rays 

Shone,  in  that  fearful  time, 
When  holy  men  amid  the  blaze 

Stood  up,  in  strengh  sublime, 
In  meekness  battling  for  the  truth 
Through  good  and  ill,  through  joy  and  ruth, 

Unshaken,  undismayed, 
Holding  the  safe  and  middle  path, 
Braving  alike  Rome's  tiger  wrath, 
And  that  fanatic  zeal,  which  flings 
Firebrands  amidst  most  sacred  things, 

Oft  cursing  while  it  prayed. 

Thy  beams  shone  on  old  Ocean's  breast 

When  the  brave  Genoese 
Traced  his  adventurous  path,  in  quest 

Of  new  worlds  o'er  the  seas  : 
Thou  saw'st  the  pilgrim  fathers  stand 
Adoring,  on  the  wintry  sand; 

Thou  saw'st  each  after-scene, 
The  battle  field — the  hour  of  strife, 
TIT  appalling  waste  of  blood  and  life, 
The  midnight  charge,  with  horror  rife, 

The  awful  flames  between. 


156  ALDEBARAN. 


When  the  strong  cry  of  liberty- 
Rolled  o'er  our  favored  land, 

And  the  glad  anthem  of  the  free 
Arose,  to  bless  the  hand 

Of  the  Almighty  King,  who  broke 

The  tyrant's  chains,  the  oppressor's  yoke, 
And  gave  our  arms  success ; 

Thy  beams  shone  on  our  festal  day, 

And  mingled  with  the  morning  ray 

Of  liberty,  that  broke  away 
O'er  all  the  joyous  West. 


Thou  saw'st  the  Church  of  God  arise, 

To  bless  this  favored  land, 
Her  rulers,  faithful,  humble,  wise, 

Appointed  at  God's  hand  ; — 
The  goodly  tree  beneath  whose  shade 
Our  sires,  our  fathers'  fathers  prayed, 

In  the  blest  olden  time, 
Hath  spread  her  verdant  branches  wide, 
From  Eastern  to  the  Western  tide, 
And  men  adore  the  Crucified, 

Through  all  our  spreading  clime. 


A  L  D  E  B  il  R  A  N  . 


157 


Old  watcher  of  the  night !  thy  light 

In  darkness  shall  expire, 
When  earth  and  heaven  shall  melt  away 

Beneath  the  sea  of  fire  ; — 
Yet  the  immortal  ones,  whose  way 
Through  life's  uncertain,  varied  day, 

Thy  beams  hath  shone  upon, 
Shall  live  when  time  shall  be  no  more, 
And  years  and  days  for  aye  be  o'er, 
In  bliss  rejoicing  evermore, 

Or  evermore  undone. 


FORWARD. 

Speak  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  that  they  go  forward. 

Exodus  xiv.  15. 

Forward  ! — with  zeal  and  faith, 

Unshaken,  undismay'd ! 
For  darkly  round  retreating  steps 

Disaster  is  array'd. 
Arm  thee  with  strength  and  soberness, 

Stout  heart  and  patient  mind  ; 
Before  thee,  rest  and  triumph  wait, 

Shame  and  defeat  behind  ! 


Forward! — thy  journey  lies 

Through  darkness,  strife  and  sin, 
And  watchful  journeying  alone 

The  distant  goal  may  win  : 
Trials  and  dangers  throng  the  road, 

Temptations  seek  thy  fall  ; 
But  God  can  give  a  dauntless  soul, 

And  victory  in  all. 


FORWARD.  159 

Forward  ! — thou  art  not  left 

In   solitude  and  fear  : 
II  liirlit  from  heaven  streams  o'er  thy  way 

Steady,  serene  and  clear. 
The  noble  army  of  the  just 

That  selfsame  way  hath  trod, 
And  faithful  brethren  at  thy  side 

Wrestle  for  thee  with  God. 


Forward  ! — the  glorious  arm 
That  smote  the  sounding  sea, 

And  laid  his  people's  journey  there, 
I-  still  outstretched  o'er  thee. 

To  guide  thee  to  the  promis'd  rest, 
To  guard — console — inspire, 

His  still  informs  the  cloud, 

•  rollfl  the  pillar'd  fire. 


160  FORWARD. 

Forward  ! — thou  hast  a  gift 

Of  confidence  and  might, 
Which  earth  and  hell  can  never  wrest 

Against  thee,  in  the  fight. 
The  rock,  the  shield,  the  weapon  keen, 

The  spirit,  and  the  power,         • 
The  blood-stained  banner,  all  are  thine 

In  battle's  fiercest  hour. 


Forward  ! — a  mighty  cloud 

Of  witnesses  surround  ! 
The  Church  triumphant — angel  hosts, 

Saints,  prophets,  martyrs  crown'd, 
The  Church,  on  earth  yet  militant, 

The  tempter  and  the  foe  : — 
Forward  !  before  is  victory, 

Behind  dismay  and  wo. 


F  0  K  W  A  R  D  .  16 1 


Forward  ! — the  trumpet  peal 

Is  ringing  in  thine  ear, 
Th'  archangel's  voice,  the  trump  of  God, 

The  judgment  day  is  near. 
Strong  as  the  blast  o'er  Sinai  pour'd, 

Mid  darkness,  cloud,  and  flame, 
Thy  Lord  shall  come  to  vindicate 

His  everlasting  name. 


Forward  ! — 0  child  of  God  ! 

Soldier  of  Christ,  press  on  ! 
Forward,  0  struggling  heir  of  heav'n, 

Until  its  gates  are  won. 
Faint  not — for  God  goes  forth  with  thee  ; 

Fail  not,  his  strength  is  thine  ; 
Forward,  unskaken,  undismay'd, 

To  rest  and  peace  divine. 
11 


MISSIONARY  WARFARE. 


;<  Long  and  faithfully  may  they  wage  it — and  may  the  day  be 
very  far  off  when  the  feeblest  shall  falter  therein,  or  desire  to  quit 
the  field." 


I. 

Why  should  ye  falter,  noble  men  ! 

Soldiers  of  God  most  High  ! 
When  life  hath  nothing  dear  but  Christ, 

And  death  is  victory  1 
Why  should  ye  falter,  hearts  of  steel ! 

Strong  wrestlers  for  a  name 
Above  the  poor  rewards  of  earth, 

Its  censure  or  its  fame  I 


MISSIONARY     WARFARE.  163 

II. 

Take  courage,  and  right  onward  bear, 

Strong  in  your  Leader's  might ; 
Protected  by  his  glorious  arm, 

And  guided  by  His  light. 
All  beautiful  and  clear  it  shines 

Above  your  toilsome  way, 
Gilding  the  battle's  waning  night 

With  hope  of  cloudless  day. 


III. 

Dread  foes  may  gather  to  molest 

Your  journey  as  ye  go — 
But  ye  shall  break  the  lifted  spear 

And  snap  the  bended  bow. 
Satan's  high  towers  before  your  strength 

Shall  crumble  into  dust, 
And  hoary  superstition  leave 

The  bulwarks  of  her  trust. 


164 


MISSIONARY     WARFARE. 


IV. 

What  though  sin's  gloomy  battlements, 

Above  your  onset,  frown; 
And  error  from  her  lofty  heights 

Looks  menacingly  down  1 
Ye  have  a  might  invincible, 

A  force,  at  faith's  command, 
Before  which  neither  pride  of  man, 

Nor  power  of  hell  may  stand. 


Ye  go  to  break  the  prison  doors, 

To  set  the  captive  free, 
To  visit  the  oppress'd  with  hope, 

The  bound  with  liberty  ! 
Joy  to  the  captive  do  ye  bring, 

And  to  the  wounded,  balm  ; 
Strength  to  the  soul  o'erthrown  by  sin, 

And  conquest's  holy  palm. 


MISSION  A  R  Y      WARFARE.  1G5 


VI. 


The  words  of  life  divine  ye  bear 

To  earth's  remotest  bound, 
Till  every  land  our  God  shall  own, 

And  with  his  praise  resound. 
Your  feet  on  every  mountain  top 

Shine  beauteous  from  afar, 
More  lovely  than  the  rise  of  morn, 

Or  light  of  midnight  star. 


VII. 

Gird  on  your  armor  then  with  strength, 

The  gospel  banner  take, 
With  both  hands  grasp  the  two-edged  sword, 

And  strike  for  Jesus'  sake. 
Why  falter,  champions  of  Christ  ! 

Soldiers  of  God  most  High, 
When  life  hath  nothing  dear  but  Christ, 

And  death  is  victory. 


POEMS  ff  EARLIER  DATS 


-'Tlie  pleasing  dreams  of  youth 
TIiujs  fondly  we  retrace  " 

Wordsworth. 


***  If  the  following  articles  should  seem  even  less  wor- 
thy of  forbearance  than  those  which  precede  them,  the 
author  has  no  apology  to  offer  except  that  he  has  in- 
troduced them  in  compliance  with  the  suggestion  of  a 
friend. 


BISHOP  WHITE. 


"WHOSE    FAITH    FOLLOW. 


Shall  we  then  mourn  thee,  venerable  guide  ! 

Father  and  friend  ! — that  thou  at  length  hast  trod 
The  vale  of  death,  and  passed  the  bounds  that  hide 

The  faithful  from  the  Sabbath-land  of  God  1 
Shall  we  then  weep,  that  thy  consoling  voice, 

As  that  of  seraphs,  deep  with  love,  may  pour 
Its  music  on  our  ear,  and  we  rejoice 

In  the  meek  triumph  of  thy  faith  no  more'? 


170  BISHOP     WHITE, 


0,  gifted  as  thou  wert,  and  clothed  with  grace, 

With  apostolic  meekness,  Zealand  strength  \ 
Nobly  thou'st  run  the  Christian's  girded  race, 

And  to  thy  full  reward  art  called  at  length. 
Long  wast  thou  spared,  the  church  of  God  to  lead, 

To  counsel  and  instruct  in  wisdom's  ways, 
With  sinners  in  the  Lord's  behalf  to  plead, 

And  cause  the  tongue  of  man  to  sing  his  praise. 


Servant  of  God",  well  done  !  around  thy  rest 

Sorrows  the  sacramental  host,  which  thou, 
Mighty  through  God,  with  peace  and  joy  hast  blest, 

Though  oft  by  trial  worn,  and  made  to  bow 
'Neath  obloquy  5 — and  as  the  light  that  gives 

Its  tender  radiance  to  the  sunset  sky, 
Hallowing  and  softening,  thy  memory  lives 

Within  the  heart  of  Zion  pure  and  high. 


BISHOP      WHITE.  171 


The  leader,  summoned  from  his  post,  we  weep  ! 

The  worthiest  of  the  consecrated  band, 
In  faith  and  years  majestic,  fall'n  asleep, 

The  brow  unmitred — cold  th'  anointing  hand. 
But  yet  for  thee  we  glory  and  rejoice 

With  joy  unspeakable  $  and  mid  the  gloom 
That  rests  on  thy  departure,  hear  the  voice 

Proclaiming  light  and  strength  beyond  tomb. 


We   mourn  thee — even  as  those  who,   mourning 
bless 

The  pilgrim  journeying  to  his  native  clime, 
Watching  to  mark  thy  joyful  footsteps  press 

The  sacred  shore,  beyond  the  stream  of  time, 
Where  angels  wait  thy  coming  :  many  tears, 

Though  not  of  bitterness,  for  thee  are  shed  ; 
Tears  of  triumphant  hope,  that  need  not  years 

To  hallow  them — nor  perish  with  the  dead. 


THE  DEATH  OF  BISHOP  HOBART. 


Written  on  first  seeing  the  beautiful  monument  in  Trinity  Church, 
New-York,  where  he  is  represented  in  his  dying  hour,  supported  by 
an  angei  who  is  pointing  to  a  cross  in  the  heavens. 


Soldier  of  Christ!  put  off  thine  armor  now — 

Lay  the  bright  weapons  of  the  warfare  down  : 
The  iron  helmet  on  thy  toil-worn  brow 

Shall  soon  be  changed  for  an  immortal  crown; 
Though  legion'd  foes  thronged  darkly  round  thy 
way, 

Firmly  and  nobly  hath  that  way  been  trod  ; 
And  now  thy  night  is  bursting  into  day, 

Undaunted  champion  of  the  Church  of  God. 


DEATH       OF      BISHOP      HOBART.  173 


Thou  tried  and  faithful  one  !  thy  soul  was  found 

Ever  most  strong  against  the  bands  of  sin, 
Thy  trumpet  tones  were  ever  heard  to  sound 

Foremost  and  loudest  in  the  battle's  din  : 
A  chosen  watchman  on  the  temple  wall 

Thou  wast  ordained  of  God — to  stand  on  hicrh. 
And  loudly  to  his  slumbering  people  call 

When  the  storm  lower'd  and  the  strife  was  nigh. 


That  strife  is  past: — the  victory  is  won — 

The  hosts  of  sin  wax'd  pale  as  thou  didst  name 
The  holy  name  of  God's  eternal  Son  ; 

And  guilt's   o'erclouded  brow  grew   dark  with 
shame. 
The  cheering  accents  of  the  Gospel  fell 

Like  spring  dews  from  thy  lip,  and  mercy  lent 
Her  soft  wings  to  thine  ardent  words,  to  tell 

Of  love  and  hope  for  man's  salvation  sent. 


174         DEATH     OF      BISHOP     HOBART, 

Lo  the  bright  cross !  look  up,  thou  fainting  one  ! 

See  through  the  temple  of  the  upper  sky 
A  flood  of  glory  streams,  as  from  the  throne 

Of  God's  eternal,  cloudless  majesty  \ 
And  from  the  hosts  of  the  redeemed  that  there 

Wake  their  loud  harps  to  ceaseless  songs  of  love, 
A  glorious  strain  seems  bursting  on  the  air 

To  welcome  thee  to  thy  reward  above. 


And  thou  art  with  the  righteous — with  the  pure 

And  holy  men  of  heart  that,  from  all  time, 
Firm  in  that  faith  which  stands  for  ever  sure, 

Went  forth  like  thee  upon  their  path  sublime — 
And  in  the  throng  of  holy  ones  that  now 

Worship  the  Saviour  in  the  heavenly  land, 
Thou,  with  the  earth-mists  fallen  from  thy  brow, 

Standest  most  bright,  and  evermore  shalt  stand. 


DEATH      OF      BISHOP      HOBART. 


175 


Strong,  fearless  champion  of  truth!  the  tears 

From  many  a  mourning  eye  flow  forth  for  thee — 
For  the  pure  lahors  of  thine  earthly  years, 

Thy  fervent  love,  and  saintly  charity. 
And  though  thy  spirit's  lamp  hath  ceased  to  shine 

Through  the  thick  darkness  of  our  mortal  night, 
Yet  on  heaven's  altar  radiant,  divine, 

It  burnetii  still  with  deeper,  holier  light. 


DIRGE* 


Thou  hast  fallen,  friend  and  brother, 

Nobly,  with  thine  armor  on  ; 
Thou  hast  fallen,  and  another 

Of  that  faithful  band  is  gone. 
Early  called,  and  richly  gifted 

For  thy  high  but  brief  career, 
Ere  thy  sword  was  well  uplifted 

Thou  wast  lain  upon  the  bier. 

Sion  mourns  thy  loss  in  sadness  ; 

Tears  are  shed,  but  not  for  thee  ; 
Thou  hast  sown,  to  reap  in  gladness 

Light  and  life  and  victory  : 
They  who  knew  the  noble  spirit 

That  within  thy  bosom  burned, 
Joy  that  it  doth  now  inherit 

That  high  bourne  for  which  it  yearned". 

*  Written  on  the  occasion  of  the  sudden  death  of  Henry  H. 
Cook,  a  candidate  for  orders,  who  had  it  in  his  heart  to  preach 
the  gospel  to  the  natives  of  Africa. 


DIRGE.  177 

13  m  for  that  degraded  nation 

O'er  the  wide  and  hostile  deep, 
To  whose  ears  the  great  salvation 

Thou  didst  sigh  to  bear,  we  weep. 
We  lament  a  herald  taken 

From  God's  sacramental  host, 
And  a  soldier's  place  forsaken 

Ere  he  gained  his  chosen  post. 

Tears  are  thine,  0  youthful  martyr, 

Tears  of  deep  but  patient  grief, 
Which  the  wrung  heart  would  not  barter 

For  the  world's  most  prized  relief ; 
For,  though  mournful  notes  are  blending 

With  the  strains  of  earthly  love, 
Triumph  high,  and  joy  unending 

Wait  thee  in  the  realms  above. 


12 


ATHANASIA. 

O  prseclarum  diem  quum  ad  illud  divinum  animorum  concil- 
ium castum que  proficiscar^  quumque  et  hacturbaetcolluvionedis- 
oedam  ! — Cicero  de  Senec.  85. 

Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not  yet  ap- 
pear what  we  shall  be ;  but  we  know  that  when  he  who  is  our 
life  shall  appear  wre  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he 
is. — 1  John  iii.  2. 


Yes  !  'twas  a  lonely  dream,  which  bard  and  sage 
Nursed  in  the  depth  of  thought,  when  o'er  the  soul 
The  consciousness  of  its  true  destiny 
Flashed  like  strong  inspiration,  and  the  light 
Of  heaven  arose  to  gild  the  gloom  of  earth. 
Tully,  thou  sayest  well!  the  immortal  mind, 
With  its  strange  wealth  of  strength  and  nobleness, 
Fetter'd  and  chained  by  weakness  and  by  sin, 
Shall  live,  when  the  frail  dust  which  it  informs 
Hath  mingled  with  its  kindred  elements. 


ATHANASIA.  179 


And  is  it  but  a  dream  1 — a  phantom  light 
Which  vain  philosophy  hath  conjured  up, 
Host  beautiful  but  false  1     We  thank  thee,  God  ! 
It  is  not  so.     The  rich  and  glorious  truth 
Which  master  spirits  of  the  olden  time, 
By  thought  severe,  and  study  long  and  deep, 
Drew  out  from  reason's  clearest,  holiest  founts. 
Is  spoken  by  the  Word  of  truth  divine 
Even  to  the  soul  of  universal  man. 

Oh  !  if  in  this  our  earthly  pilgrimage 
There  be  imparted  to  the  human  mind 
One  high  sustaining  gift  which  can  support 
The  spirit  of  a  man  in  toil  and  wo, 
It  is  the  knowledge  of  his  destiny 
Beyond  the  brief  and  troubled  scene  of  life. 
When  care  hath  cast  its  blight  and  bitterness 
O'er  the  wrung  heart,  and  sorrow  as  a  cloud 
Comes  down  upon  it  ;  when  along  our  path 
The  flowers  of  early  hope  lie  withering, 
And  the  wide  past  is  even  as  the  grave 
Of  all  our  best  affections,  and  lone  grief, 
With  marble  eye  and  brow,  sits  watching  it  ; — 
To  rook  beyond — to  know  that  there  is  rest, 


180  ATHANASIA. 


Eternal  rest,  and  perfect  happiness 

In  the  bright  realms  above,  our  fatherland — 

The  spirit's  glorious  bourne — its  shrine — its  home. 

This,  this  is  knowledge  ;  this  is  strength  and  power 

To  find  and  fill  the  soul — to  nerve  the  heart, 

And  purify  and  elevate  the  mind, 

And  give,  in  every  scene  of  bliss  or  pain, 

Patience  and  cheerfulness,  energy  and  hope. 

If  in  that  awful  hour,  when  earth  recedes 

From  our  dim  sight,  when  links  are  broken  off 

And  ties  are  sundered,  which  on  earth  shall  be 

United  never  more  ;  if  in  the  dread 

And  palpable  dismay  of  death,  there  be 

A  gift  consoling  unto  those  that  die 

And  those  that  live,  it  is  the  strength, 

The  patience,  and  the  hope  that  cometh  then 

From  the  assurance  of  eternal  life, 

Vouchsafed  to  faith  and  meek  obedience. 

Lo  !  yonder  scene  of  sorrow  ! — there  is  lain 
Upon  a  dying  couch,  one  who  is  loved 
And  cherished  with  a  depth  of  tenderness 
Which   none  but    Christians   know.     The  spoiler 
comes  3 — 


A  T  H  A  N  ASIA.  181 


The  golden  cord  is  broken — the  mysterious  wheel 

Of  life  is  stilled,  the  fount  is  closed  and  dry! 

But  there  is  calmness,  and  a  blessed  light 

Upon  the  lonely  features  of  the  dead, 

And  there  is  mingled  grief  and  holy  hope 

Upon  the  brow  of  the  sad  weeper  there  ! 

Ask  ye  the  secret  of  their  patient  trust? 

Though  severed  for  a  time,  those  ties  shall  be 

United,  in  a  world  where  parting  is 

A  word  unknown,  and  holiness  and  love 

Shall  bind  those  tried  and  faithful  hearts  to  God 

And  to  each  other,  in  undying  bonds. 

Father  of  all !  accept  our  feeble  praise 
For  this  thy  perfect  gift — our  perfect  hope. 
Holy  Redeemer  !  to  thy  cross  we  come 
To  learn  the  wisdom  of  immortal  life. 
Eternal  Spirit !  guide  us  on  our  way 
Until,  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy 
I  pon  our  heads,  we  tread  the  holy  mount, 
In  vision  of  our  God,  and  take  the  harp, 
Whose  music  is  the  soul  of  harmony 
And  love,  to  pour  its  strain  of  praise 
Around  the  throne,  while  countless  ages  roll. 


JOHN  WICLIF. 


From  out  that  midnight,  so  dark  and  deep, 

A  voice  cried,  Ho,  awaken  ! 
And  the  sleepers  aroused  themselves  from  sleep, 

And  the  thrones  of  the  earth  were  shaken. 

Rev.  D.  M.  Moir. 


A  stern  yet  glorious  task  was  thine, 

Thou  lion-hearted  champion ! 
To  wage,  array'd  with  strength    divine, 

A  mortal  fight  with  sin  alone. 
To  speak  God's  holy  mandate  out, 

Alike  before  the  rack  and  throne  : 
And  drown  oppression's  rabble  shout 

In  conscious  truth's  majestic  tone. 


JOH  N     W  I  C  L  I  F  .  183 


Chosen  in  evil  times  to  be 

The  advocate  of  God  with  man, 
Thy  stirring  voice  rang  fearlessly 

In  danger's  Sfrim  and  threat'ninof  van  ; 
As  sounds  of  warning,  eloquent, 

Before  a  host's  advancing  path  ; 
Or  strong  winds  through  the  darkness  sent; 

Prophetic  of  the  tempest's  wrath. 


Thou  didst  not  quail  at  power's  frown, 

Thou  didst  not  shrink  when  ghostly  pride, 
With  maniac  zeal,  was  bearing  down 

Its  tens  of  thousands  at  thy  side  : 
Calm,  firm,  resolved,  thy  dauntless  soul 

Still  bore  thee  on,  whate'er  might  be, 
Triumphant  over  earth's  control, 

To  more  than  earthly  victory. 


184  JOHN     WICLIF 


To  rescue  truth  oppress'd — to  break 

The  spiritual  despot's  rod  ; 
To  bid  the  slumb'ring  mind  awake — 

Such  were  thine  arms,  bold  man  of  God! 
What  were  thy  trials'?    Chains  and  scorn — - 

The  ruler's  rage,  the  people's  sneer. 
What  thy  rewards  1    Reproaches,  borne 
In  threats  and  curses  to  thine  ear. 


And  what  thy  triumphs  1  Is  there  traced 

No  record  on  the  page  of  time  1 
Is  that  bright  registry  effaced 

Of  holy  strength  and  faith  sublime  1 
No !  thou  art  fitly  honor'd  now 

Among  the  excellent  of  earth  ; 
And  strong  hearts  leap  forth  to  avow 

Thy  Christian  nobleness  and  worth* 


JOHN      TV  I  C  L  I  F  , 


185 


For  human  praise  thou  didst  not  ask, 

0  glorious  and  victor  one  ! 
And  God,  for  the  gigantic  task, 

Gave  strength  through  his  eternal  Son. 
The  Rock  of  Ages,  firm  abreast, 

Thou  stood'st  in  perils  and  alarms, 
And  calmly  amidst  all  didst  rest 

Upon  the  Everlasting  Arms. 


MADELINE  : 


A   REMINISCENCE    OF    A    LIBRARY* 
Suggested  by  a  passage  in  Richter's  Fixlein. 

We  love  to  watch  the  golden  dawn's  uprise 
In  the  gray  east,  all  beautiful  and  still, 

When  the  pale  stars  fade  slowly  from  the  skies, 
And  mists  roll  dim  and  gradual  from  the  hill 

Like  wreathing  incense,  and  the  minstrelsies 
Of  early  birds  is  mingled  with  the  thrill 

Of  forest  boughs,  yet  fragrant  with  the  dew, 

Op'ning  their  verdant  arches   as  the  winds  pass 
through. 


M  ADELINE.  1S7 

A  scene  like  this,  whate'er  our  lot  may  be, 

Time  hallows  to  the  soul  with  charms  more  rare  ; 

Time  steals  away  the  glorious  energy 

Of  our  young  years,  and  hope  grows  dim  in  care  ; 

But  this  hath  tokens  of  the  past  which  we 

Have  linked  in  thought  with  all  things  sweet  and 
fair, 

And  blessed  memories  of  those  that  stood 

Around  our  early  path  in  holy  brotherhood. 


A  bright  and  gentle  band  they  were,  in  sooth  ! 

United  as  the  odorous  leaves  that  twine 
Around  the  household  porch  we  lov'd  in  youth, 

Or  kindred  buds  that  beautify  one  vine  ; 
And  theirs  was  friendship  garnered  up  with  truth, 

And  deep  affection,  hope  almost  divine, 
And  gentleness  unmarred,  and  pure  intents 
Lending  angelic  grace  to  earthly  lineaments. 


188  MADELINE, 


A  lovely  image  is  before  me  now, 

A  picture  of  the  dead  ; — no  cloud  is  cast 

O'er  the  clear  sunshine  of  that  girlish  brow 
To  tell  us  of  the  shadows  of  the  past. 

Thus  beauteous  in  thine  innocence  wert  thou, 
My  sister  Madeline,  the  loved  and  last ; 

Spared   when    the   cherished   group  that  brightly 
shone 

Upon  my  boyhood's  eye,  to  their  long  rest  had 
gone. 


Fifteen  brief  summers — they  alone  can  tell 

How  brief  they  were  who  knew  thee  as  I  knew — 

Had  softened  her  strange  beauty  with  a  spell 
Of  mingled  innocence  and  grace — a  hue 

Floating  and  dreamlike,  yet  remembered  well 
In  after  years  ;  a  purity  that  grew 

More  heavenly  with  each  succeeding  day, 

As  moonlight  sweeter  grows  as  night's  hours  roll 
away. 


M  ADELINE.  189 

The  joy  of  all  she  was,  and  oft  we  deemed 

We  entertained  an  angel  unawares  5 
So  much  unlike  this  actual  earth  she  seemed, 

Too  fragile  foi  its  storms,  and  for  its  cares 
Too  meek  ;  and  guilelessly  she  dreamed 

Of  that  which  comes  to  none,  untroubled  airs 
Of  peace  and  love  unclouded,  and  bright  years 
Of  happiness,  and  future  bliss  unlinked  with  tears. 


That  bright  dream  was  unbroken,  while  the  clay 
Held  its  celestial  inmate  ;  she  was  bless'd 

E'en  as  she  wished  until  her  dying  day  ; 
And,  as  a  wave  of  sunlight  on  the  breast 

Of  ocean  shed,  melts  tremulous  away, 

She  passed  all  beauteous  and  serene  to  rest, 

S     iling  with  rapture  at  the  glimpses  given 

To  her  unclouded  faith  of  God,  and  Christ,  and  hea- 
ven. 


190  MADELINE. 


She  loved  the  library  $  yon  chair  of  state, 
Eobbed  of  its  fringe  and  gilded  dignity, 

Was  as  her  throne,  where  wond'ringly  she  sat 
Guessing  in  curious  awe  at  what  might  be 

Buried  in  tomes  antique  and  folios  great, 
Figured  with  quaint  device  and  tracery  ; 

The  lore  of  Rome,  Cologne  and  Amsterdam, 

And  works  of  master-minds  in  England's  age  of 
palm. 


Nor  were  these  treasures  all  unscanned,  I  wTeen ! 

That  noble  volume  of  the  Saviour's  life, 
Fabric  most  richly  wrought  of  truth  serene, 

By  him,  victim  aud  conqueror  of  strife, 
The  sainted  Taylor,  long  to  her  had  been 

A  mine  with  truth  and  calm  devotion  rife, 
A  well  of  holy  thought  whose  waters  rose, 
Most  clear  and  beautiful,  and  pure  as  Alpine  snows. 


MADELINE.  191 

And  good  George  Herbert,  pleasing  bard  and  quaint, 
Whose  solemn  "  temple,"  as  his  life  on  earth, 

Breathes  of  deep  holiness,  who  loved  to  paint 
The  village  pastor's  gentleness  and  worth, 

Fit  record  of  that  meek  one  militant ! 
And  Parnell, — poet  of  immortal  birth, 

Whose  strain  flows  on,  as  crystal  from  the  springs, 

Sweet  language  fitly  linked  to  sweet  imaginings. 


And  Izaak  Walton,  with  his  pleasant  tales 
Of  those  meek  worthies  of  the  olden  time, 

Calm  spirits  girded  with  the  strength  that  quails 
Before  no  mortal  foe;  whose  faith  sublime, 

Yet  tranquil,  in  vicissitude  avails 

To  blunt  temptation's  edge  and  guard  from  crime  : 

Beautiful  legends  of  .the  human  heart 

Preserved  for  after  days,  true  wisdom  to  impart. 


192  MADELINE 


And  here,  each  morn,  ere  the  the  first  rays  of  dawn 
Fell  softened  throughthe  casement,  she  would  flee 

With  simple  flowers  gathered  from  the  lawn 
To  deck  the  portait  frames  and  tapestry, 

Shading  her  laughing  glances,  half  withdrawn 
In  bashfulness,  and  half  in  childish  glee. 


How  eloquent,  on  youthful  lips,  the  words 

Of  purity  and  virtue,  flowing  on 
E'en  as  the  anthems  of  the  summer  birds, 

When  the  untainted  air  of  heaven  is  won  5 
Or  like  soft  whisperings  of  angels,  heard 

By  those  whose  earthly  race  in  faith  is  run, 
Breathing  prophetic  in  its  eloquent  close 
Of  an  eternal  rest  for  pain,  and  bliss  for  woes. 


MADELINE 


193 


She  lived  amon^  us  as  a  beins:  sent 

For  a  short  season,  and  then  called  away, 

A  gift  of  hope  and  love,  in  mercy  lent 

To  cheer  and  guide  us  onward  on  our  way. 

The  died,  as  dieth  from  the  firmament 
The  holy  radiance  of  departing  day! 

Peace  to  thy  soul,  sweet  sister  Madeline  ! 

If  not  thy  life,  yet  may  thy  gentle  death  be  mine. 


13 


SCENE  IN  THE  ALHAMERA. 

SUGGESTED  BY  A  DESCRIPTION  IN  IRVINg's  ALHAMBRA. 

Day  dawned  upon  the  castled  hills, 

And  on  the  sunny  fields  of  Spain  j 
And  forests  waved,  and  silver  rills 

Burst  on  their  joyous  way  again, 
And  their  low  silvery  music  fell 

Upon  the  ear  in  plaintive  mirth, 
Like  a  soft  murmur  of  farewell 

From  lips  we  hold  most  dear  on  earth  ; 
When  hopes  which  are  a  joy  to  feel> 
And  dreams,  we  dare  not  all  reveal, 
Stir  the  deep  ocean  of  the  heart, 
And  make  it  rapture  e'en  to  part. 


SCENE      IN      THE      A  L  II  A  M  B  It  A  .  195 


From  convent  lone,  and  turret  gray, 

The  matin  bell  rung  out  its  tone, 
As  if  to  greet  the  coming  day, 

With  music  blither  than  its  own: 
The  friar  kissed  his  cross,  and  knelt 

Beside  the  altar,  rich  and  rare, 
To  breathe  the  glowing  praise  he  felt, 

Like  incense  on  the  fresh  free  air. 
The  nun  bent  o'er  her  beads,  and  strove 
To  utter  all  her  glowing  love : 
*  Manhood  and  age,  youth  free  and  wild, 
Fair,  dark-ey'd  maid,  and  careless  child, 
Sent  up  their  mingled  voices  there, 
Winged  with  the  eloquence  of  prayer. 


Hark  !  from  th'  Alhambra's  regal  walls, 
Loud,  stirring  sounds  come  rolling  on  ; 

And  the  broad  crescent  banner  falls, 
As  if  in  homage  to  the  sun, 


196  SCENE     IN      THE     ALHAMBRA 


Then  waves  from  its  proud  height  again, 
Where  the  stern  Moslem  lifts  in  vain, 
With  bended  knee  and  turban'd  brow, 
The  empty  mockery  of  his  vow. 
And  woman's  voice  steals  soft  and  low, 
By  the  bright  fountain's  silver  glow, 
Mingling  its  accents  with  the  breath 
Of  roses,  waving  underneath. 
From  grove  of  palm  and  orange  bower, 
Gay  voices  greet  the  kindly  hour  ; 
The  myrtle's  twining  leaves  are  stirred 
With  the  clear  carol  of  the  bird, 
That  pours  his  grateful  strain  among 

The  shaded  arches,  green  and  dim  ; 
Where  woman's  gentle  hands  hath  hung 

A  bright  and  gilded  home  for  him. 
And  man's  quick  footsteps  lightly  bound, 
All  careless  o'er  the  sunny  ground  5 
Though  dear  the  scene  and  blithe  the  air, 
Away  !  ye  must  not  linger  there  ; 
For  the  loud  trumpet  wakes  to  call 
Each  idle  loiterer  to  the  hall  ; 


SCENE      IN      THE      ALHAMBRA.  197 

Al  Hassan  holds  his  court  to-day, 
And  wo  to  him  that  dares  to  stray 
Where  love  and  pleasure  call  their  own, 
When  once  that  trumpet's  blast  hath  blown  ! 


Lo  !   in  gay  groups  unto  the  court 

Grenada's  chivalry  resort ; 

And  lance  and  sabre  proudly  shine, 

And  helms  of  steel  flash  high  in  air, 
And  silken  banners  bright,  untwine 

Their  waves  of  gold  and  azure  there. 
And  darkest  plumes  sweep  proudly  by 
Like  clouds  across  a  summer  sky, 
And  proud  hearts  'neath  the  glancing  mail, 
Throb  quick  and  high,  as  if  the  tale 
Of  hope,  which  they  have  long  concealed, 
Already  burned  to  be  revealed. 


198  SCENE     IN     THE      ALHAMBRA 


Where  the  slight  columns  lift  on  high 

Their  arches  to  the  sculptured  roof, 
Like  lines  of  light  along  the  sky, 

When  sunset  weaves  her  magic  woof, 
Bright  eyes,  like  sparkling  orbs  of  dew 
That  gem  the  violet's  robe  of  blue, 
Gleam  from  the  harem's  rich  recess, 

When  fairy  fingers  waft  aside 
The  drapery's  crimson  sumptuousness  ; 

And  houri  forms,  like  starbeams,  glide 
Between  the  gilded  peristyles  ; 
And  brows  of  light,  and  angel  smiles, 
Shed  all  the  glory  of  their  glow 
On  him  who  gazes  from  below. 


High  seated  on  a  brilliant  throne, 

That  from  the  bright  hall's  farthest  niche 

With  gold  and  polish'd  jasper  shone, 
In  profuse  splendor,  over  which 


SCENE      IN      THE      ALHA3IBRA.  1 99 

The  silken  curtain's  fold  of  blue, 

Rose  like  a  waving-  sky  to  view; 

With  eagle  eye  and  haughty  mein, 

Al  Hassan  gazes  on  the  scene  ; 

Yet,  what  though  India's  brightest  gem 

Shines  on  his  regal  diadem  1 

Though  all  the  envied  pearls  that  sleep    ' 

In  coral  grottoes  of  the  deep, 

Repose  like  stars  upon  his  brow, 

It  wears  a  cloud  of  terror  now  ; 

And  all  the  wealth  that  glitters  near, 

Can  not  dispel  that  shade  of  fear  : 

And  why  1 — go  seek  the  fearful  cause 

In  broken  faith  and  trampled  laws  ; — 

Though  the  bold  mockery  of  pride, 

Will  strive  the  rising  thought  to  hide, 

Yet  dark  deceit,  and  shame,  and  sin, 

Hold  dreadful  revelry  within. 

But  where  are  they  of  yesternight  1 

Alethinks  the  harp  might  louder  swell, 
And  eager  glances  beam  more  bright, 

With  all  the  glowing  hope  they  tell, 


200  SCENE     IV      THE     ALHAMBBA 


If  one  dark  radiant  eye  that  shone 

Upon  the  tournay's  gathered  glow, 
In  days  and  hours  brightly  gone, 

Were  there  to  bless  its  splendor  now ! 
Faces  of  light  and  love  are  there, 

And  brows  of  angel  beauty  gleam 
Like  lilies  in  the  sunny  air, 

That  cluster  o'er  a  quiet  stream. 
But  she,  the  star  before  whose  light 
The  brightest  there  would  seem  less  bright, 
The  maid,  to  whom  at  eventide 
E'en  stern  Ah  Hassan  doffs  his  pride, 
And  humbly  sues  on  bended  knee 
For  love's  sweet  guerdon,  where  is  she  1 


A  quick  thought  flushed  the  monarch's  cheek 
"  Bring  in  the  stranger — he  who  came 

At  dawn  of  day,  alone  and  weak, 
A  minstrel's  sacred  rights  to  claim  ; 


SCENE     IN     THE      ALHAMBRA,  201 


I  marked  his  quick  and  flashing  eye, 
As  tremblingly  he  tottered  by  ; 
And  marvelled  much  that  age  could  light 
A  glance  so  strangely  wild  and  bright  5  — 
Ha  !   minstrel — sooth,  thou  comest  well, 
To  grace  our  morning  festival ; 
Doubtless  thy  harp  is  tuned  to  lays 
Of  knightly  strife  in  other  days  5 
Sing  then  of  bold  Abdallah's  reign, 
The  king  and  conqueror  of  Spain. 


The  minstrel  threw  aside  his  vest, 

And  showed  the  gilt  cross  on  his  breast, 

uNay,  Moor,"  he  answered — agold  of  thine 

Hath  never  crossed  this  palm  of  mine  3 

And  my  loved  harp  is  yet    too  free, 

So  basely  to  be  sold  to  thee  5 


202  SCENE     IN     THE      ALHAMBRA. 

And  Bertram's  tongue  shall  never  tell, 

The  triumph  of  the  infidel  ; 

But  I  may  sing  of  knights  as  brave  ; 

The  Christian  host " 

"  By  Allah,  slave  ! 
Thy  words,  methinks,  are  strangely  bold, 
For  form  so  frail  and  hand  so  old  ; 
Another  taunt  like  that  ; — beware, 
My  hate  is  not  a  thing  to  dare  ; 
And  links  of  steel  can  quickly  tame 
The  heart  that  holds  too  high  a  flame. 
Why  cam'st  thou  hither  1" 

"  To  demand 
Mercy — nay,  justice — at  thy  hand  ! 
The  time  may  come  when  Bertram's  word 
Shall  not  sound  near  thee  all  unheard  : 
Know  then — the  maid,  whose  name  e'en  now 
Would  call  the  crimson  to  thy  brow, 
Is  sought  by  men,  as  strong  and  brave 
As  those  whose  plumes  around  thee  wave !" 


SCENE      IN      THE      ALHAMBRA.  203 

"Ha!  say'st  thou  so  V*   the  Moor  replied, 

While  curled  his  lip  with  wrath  and  pride  ; 

And  from  his  dark  eye  shot  the  fire 

Of  mingled  triumph,  scorn  and  ire  5 

"  Ha  !  say' st  thou  so  1 — rash  wretch,  away  ! 

Thine  eye  shall  never  see  the  day  ! 

The  chain — the  rack — Al  Hassan  brooks 

Nor  murm'ring  lips,  nor  wrathful  looks. 

Seize  the  false  villain — to  the  keep — 

Alhambra  hath  not  cell  too  deep, 

Or  chain  too  galling  for  the  slave, 

And  his  shall  be  a  living  grave  !" 


Like  a  quick  flash,  at  midnight  sent 
Across  the  clouded  firmament, 
The  minstrel  gained  the  folding  door 
And  struck  the  wardour  to  the  .floor,    . 


204  SCENE     IN     THE     ALHAMBRA. 


While  curses  deep  and  tones  of  fear, 

Poured  like  a  tempest  on  his  ear. 

A  strong  hand  grasped  his  robe  ;  it  fell — 

His  minstrel  hood  flies  from  his  brow  : 
Allah  il  Allah  !  loudly  swell 
Those  sounds  of  Moslem  vengeance  now, 
High  gleams  his  sabre  in  the  air  ; 
No  more  the  arm  of  age  is  there  ; 
His  youthful  brow  is  high  and  pale, 

His  eye  hath  all  a  lion's  rage  5 
His  form  is  girt  with  flashing  mail, 

And  bent  no  more  by  age  ! 
Now  rouse  ye — rouse  ye,  one  and  all, 
His  step  is  sounding  in  the  hall, 

And  the  high  porch  is  won — 
"  Speed  to  the  tower,"  Hassan  cried, 
Unless  its  portal  be  denied, 

By  Mahmud  !  we're  undone." 


CENE      IN      THE      ALHAMBRA.  205 


Loud  Bertram'!  straining  accents  rose 
Above  the  curses  of  his  foes, 
And  mid  that  fierce  and  wrathful  throng, 
His  battle  cry  rung  loud  and  long. 
He  faints  at  length — th'  unequal  strife 
Of  blood  for  blood,  and  life  for  life, 
Though  nobly  waged  and  long  sustained, 
Gives  hope  of  nought  but  vengeance  gained. 
And  must  he  die  a  death  like  this  1 
Unshrived,  unblessed,  while  Pagans  hiss, 
In  impious  mockery,  to  see 
His  last  hour's  fearful  agony  1 
'Twere  well,  upon  the  listed  field, 

INI  id  trumpet  clang  and  flashing  steel, 
"Where  banners  richly  wave,  to  yield 

The  spirit  up :  but  oh  !  to  feel, 
When  life  is  ebbing  slow  away, 
A  foeman's  foot  upon  our  clay  ! 
And  while  we  darkly  gasp,  to  hear 
Nought  but  contumely  whispered  near! 
He  slowly  faints — is  there  no  charm 

To  wing  the  sword  with  lightning  now  1 


206  SCENE      IN     THE     ALHAMBRA.     i 

To  nerve  with  strength  the  drooping  arm, 

And  lend  more  freshness  to  the  browl 
He  leaned  against  the  pillared  wall, 

Though  faint  and  weak  ;  unconquered  yet, 
As  if  no  terror  could  appal 

His  sun-like  spirit,  till  it  set. 
Though  death  be  near,  it  cannot  dim 
The  eagle  soul  that  burns  in  him. 
With  hasty  step  and  menace  loud, 
Al  Hassan  darted  from  the  crowd, 
And  paused  before  the  youthful  knight, 
As  if  to  mark  his  mein  aright : 
Too  late — a  shriek — a  thrilling  cry 

Rung  loudly  through  the  vaulted  hall ; 
The  monarch  turned  his  wrathful  eye, 

And  stayed  the  arm  about  to  fall. 
"  Ha,  fool !"  he  cried,  "  and  is  it  so — 
My  very  Haram  yields  a  foe  1 
Back,  woman  !  heart  so  weak  as  thine, 
Should  seek  a  more  enticing  shrine  !" 


SCENE      IN      THE      A  L  II  A  M  B  B  A  .  207 


Zitella  heard  him  not;  but  hurried  past, 
Her  dark  hair  wildly  o'er  her  forehead  cast  ; 
Love,  hope  and  terror  struggling  in  her  glance, 
Too  full  for  words,  too  strong  for  utterance. 
Upon  her  cheek  a  transient  flush  reposed, 
Like  light  on  flowers,  ere  the  day  has  closed  ; 
But  yet  no  tear  bedewed  that  changing  cheek, 
Whate'er  her  grief,  she  dared  not  now  be  weak. 
A  hostile  arm  in  vain  her  path  denied  ; 
Faithful  in  death,  she  sprang  to  Bertram's  side, 
And  her  blanched  lips  seemed  whispering  to 

his  soul 
That  fervent  love  which  death  could  not  con- 
trol. 
Fondly   his  pale    lips    touched   her   drooping 

brow, 
So  bright  before,  so  death-like  pallid  now — 
Then  stood  as  firm  and  nobly  as  before, 
For  all  the  bitterness  of  doubt  was  o'er; 
And  the  frail  form  that  clung  upon   his  breast 
.Must  be  sustained,  though  death  should  bring 
the  rest. 


208  SCENE      IN      THE      ALHAMBRA, 


Still  darker  grew  Al  Hassan's  haughty  eye. 
And  must  the  pure  in  heart  so  vainly  die, 
E'en  when  the  links  of  human  love  do  cling 
Most  tenderly  around  the  spirit's  win£  1 
Hath  this  dark  world,  alas  !  no  brighter  doom 
For  such  most  strong  affection,  than  the  tomb  I 
'Tis  even  so  !    The  word  of  death  is  given — 
Ye  reft  of  earth,  now  put  your  trust  in  heaven  ! 
"Peace,  love,"   Zitella  cried,  "myhorae  is  here! 
Though  dangers  come,  and  frowning  foes  are  near, 
Yet  I  can  dare  them  all,  when  thou  dost  twine 
Thy  failing  hand  thus  trustingly  in  mine  ; 
And  thy  warm  heart,  thus  throbbing  to  mine  own, 
Makes  e'en  this  place  more  valued  than  a  throne." 


"  'Tis  well,"  Al  Hassan  spake,  "  yet  shalt  thou  gain 
Nought  of  the  promised  pleasure  with  the  pain : 


SCENE      i  JN      THE      ALIIAMB1U,  20i) 

Ho  !   bind  the  maiden — bear  her  from  the  hall  ! 
My  words  are  wont  not  idly  thus  to  fall ! 
Now  yield  thee,  knight,  for  Moslem  steel  is  true  ! 
And  canst  thou  wish  for  blood  to  flow  anew, 
Mingled  perhaps  with  hers,  who  here  hath  shown 
Thy  worthless  life  more  sacred  than  her  own  1" 


Calm  as  the  marble,  that  uprose 

In  stately  grandeur,  where  he  stood, 
Bertka3I  still  glared  upon  his  foes, 

In  ail  save  his  own  heart  subdued. 
He  turned  to  gaze  upon  the  form 
That  hung  all  breathless  on  his  arm  ; 
And  a  brief  cloud  of  anguish  came 
Across  his  forehead's  burning  flame  ; 
And,  for  one  moment,  o'er  his  cheek 
There  shot  a  quiver  wild  and  weak, 


H 


210  SCENE     IN     THE     ALHAMBRA. 

And  a  slight  tremor  thrilled  the  hand 

That  bade  defiance  to  the  band  ; 

But  for  one  moment — then  again 

His  spirit  held  its  wonted  reign  : 

"  Aye,  come  !  a  darker  hour  hath  been 

My  lot  amid  the  strife  of  men, 

And  my  strong  soul  hath  never  quailed, 

When  even  death  itself  prevailed." 


Hark  !  hark ! — a  free  and  joyous  shout  ! 
A  trumpet  loudly  sounds  without ; 
And  a  deep  cry  of  voices  flung 

In  triumph  from  the  lofty  wall 
Above  the  guarded  tower,  rung 

In  startling  wildness  through  the  hall: 
"  The  cross !  the  cross  ! — Ho !  strike  for  Spain ! 
Shall  woman's  wrongs  call  forth  in  vain  1 


SCENE      IN      THE      ALHAMBRA.  211 


The  cross  !"     And  at  that  thrilling  sound, 
A  thousand  lances  touched  the  ground, 
Sudden  and  fearful,  as  the  light 
Of  falling  stars  at  dead  of  ni^ht. 


A  steed  is  at  the  castle  gate, 
Caparison'd  in  lordly  state  ] 
A  manly  form  is  bending  o'er 
A  fainting  maiden  at  the  door. 
He  lifts  her  on  the  barb — away  ! 
The  doubtful  strife  forbids  delay  ! 
A  distant  land  must  yet  be  won, 
For  thee  and  her,  ere  set  of  sun. 


Night  came — the  blue  and  glorious  night 
That  gilds  the  radiant  sky  of  Spain ; 

And  stars  shed  down  their  mellow  light, 
Beauteously  on  hill  and  plain, 


212  SCENE     IN     THE     ALHAMBRA. 

Like  a  band  of  seraphs  keeping 
Silent  watch,  when  earth  is  sleeping, 
Shining  on,  for  ever  clear, 
Like  eyes  of  love  when  hope  is  near. 
In  gay  Toledo's  orange  bowers, 
Blithe  music  winged  the  fleeting  hours, 
And  the  voice  of  love  and  song 
Breathed  the  moonlit  waves  along  : 
'Tis  well :  to-morrow's  kindly  sun, 
Shall  gladden  all  he  shines  upon, 
And  when  his  latest  ray  shall  beam, 
Lingeringly  on  mount  and  stream, 
In  her  own  bower  at.  eventide, 
Zitella  shall  be  Bertram's  bride. 


THE  GHEBER'S  DYING  HYMN. 


I. 


Thou  glorious  minister  of  day!  that  now, 
On  the  rich  bosom  of  the  crimson  wave, 
E'en  as  a  king,  dost  rest  thy  dazzling  brow, 
While  earth  lies  hushed  before  thee, like  a  slave, 
'Tis  fit  that  this  my  parting  hour,  should  be, 
Monarch  of  light  and  loveliness,  with  thee. 


214  the    gheber's 


II. 

For  I  have  loved  thy  presence ;  oft  at  mom 
When  Iran's  worshippers  before  thee  knelt, 

And  thou  o'er  earth  and  sky,  in  radiant  scorn, 
Didst  fling  thine  ardent  kiss,  as  if  to  melt 

The  world  to  thine  embrace — thy  light  became 

To  my  fond  soul  a  passion,  and  thy  name 


III. 

Was  as  the  memory  of  early  dreams, 

Nursed  in  the  depth  of  thought,  which  after  years 
But  hallow  as  they  glide — or  as  the  streams 

Which  we  are  wont  to  love,  before  the  tears, 
That  darkly  hang  above  life's  older  day, 
Have  cast  their  shadows  round  our  earthly  way. 


DYING      HYMN.  215 


IV. 


Primeval  Fountain  of  unfading  light  ! 

Shadow  of  Him  who  holds  his  glorious  throne 
Enshrined  in  awful  majesty  and  might, 

In  the  full  splendor  of  thy  burning  zone  ! 
Thou  art  the  spirit's  altar,  and  the  shrine 
Of  our  deep  thought,  when  thought  is  most  divine  ! 


Is  not  thy  sitting  beautiful  1    The  west 

Is  diadem'd  with  clouds,  and  the  young  stars, 

Like  sentinels,  to  guard  thy  kingly  rest, 
Marshal  around  thy  couch  their  silver  cars, 

And  the  broad  moon,  all  beautiful  and  still, 

Smiles  like  a  Peri,  o'er  the  eastern  hill. 


216  the    gheber's 


VI. 

My  spirit  breaks  its  slumber.     A  deep  spell 

Of  power  is  upon  me.     I  behold 
Legions  of  those  mysterious  shapes  which  dwell 

On  that  bright  sea,  that  rolls  its  waves  of  gold 
Around  the  sapphire  palaces,  that  rise 
Magnificent  beyond  the  curtained  skies. 


VII. 

And  there  are  radiant  forms,  and  eyes  that  shine 
In  their  soft,  lustrous  beauty,  like  the  dew 

That  halloweth  the  flowers  which  entwine 
Around  the  silver  fountains  of  Merou  5* 

And  fairest  brows,  upon  whose  calm  repose 

Is  traced  that  love,  which  there  forever  glows, 

*  "  Among  Merou's  bright  palaces  and  groves."-^ Veiled  Prophet- 


DYING      HYMN. 


217 


VIII. 

A  hoy  task  is  theirs.  Around  the  throne 
Of  the  o'ershadowing  Glory,  that  doth  fill 

That  spirit-clime  with  beauty  all  its  own, 
Veiled  from  created  eyes,  yet  awful  still, 

They  bow,  in  breathless  homage,  to  adore 

With  worship  meet,  and  fervent  evermore. 


IX. 

And  oh  the  brightest  there  !  upon  whose  wings 
That  awful  and  unwhispered  spell  is  writ 

By  Mitfra's  burning  hand,  to  which  all  things 
Withn  the  temple  bow  adoring  it  ; 

The  bri^itest  of  the  genii  that  hold 

Their  cetseless  watch  around  the  throne  of  gold, 


218  the    gheber's 


X. 

Which,  in  that  wondrous  fabric  where  he  dwells, 
Stands  like  a  column  of  hewn  flame,  and  bums 

With  the  strange  incense  which  the  circling  spells 
Do  pour  unceasing  from  their  starry  urns — 

Pseaned  by  silver  harps,  whose  tremulous  strings 
Are  fed  with  harmony  from  viewless  wings  ! 


XL 

Why  art  thou  dim,  my  soul  %     The  mists  o  earth 
Yet  darken  round  thee,  and  its  clinging  «hain 

Yet  cumbereth  thy  wing  !     Is  not  thy  birtr 
Within  the  splendor  of  that  solemn  fane — 

To  weave,  eternally,  thy  fervent  hymn 

Around  the  shrine  \ — Oh  wherefore  art  tfou  dim  % 


DYING     HYMN. 


219 


3Iy  spirit  faints  ; — the  glorious  sun  hath  past 

Like  a  swift  thought  away,  and  the  bright  hues 
That  gilded  his  pavilion,  melt  at  last, 

And  night  comes  on  with  stars,  and  winds,  and 
dews, 
Cold — cold  ; — the     flame    grows    brighter    on   the 

shrine 

Earth,  where  art  thou  1     High  Spirit,  I  am  thine  ! 


SONNET. 


Daughter  of  Heaven,  star-eyed  Freedom  ! — thou 

To  whom  the  brave  lift  up  their  ardent  eyes, 
To  catch  the  deep  light  burning  on  thy  brow, 

And  the  strong  fervor  of  thy  native  skies  ! 
To  thee,   through  countless  years,  the  heart  hath 
knelt, — 

To  thee  the  soul  its  gushing  vows  hath  po  ured — 
And  godlike  men  grew  breathless  as  thy  felt 

The  proud  and  tameless  spirit  they  adored. 


SONNET. 


221 


Thy  throne  is  high  in  heaven — e'en  as  a  star 

Pouring  its  splendor  through  the  night  of  time  , 
We  hail  thy  kindling  radiance  afar, 

Though  dimmed,  yet  bright — though  clouded  yet 
sublime  ! 
Free  as  the  lion- hearts  that  own  thy  sway  ! 
Strong  as   the  noontide  sun,  and  glorious  as  the 
day! 


o- 


NEW  WORKS  &  NEW  EDITIONS. 


The  undersigned  have  the  pleasure  of  presenting  to  you  a  ropy  of 
their  Catalogue  of  imp  >nant  Publications  in  the  several  departments 
of  Literature.    They  would  particularly  direct  your  attention  to  that 
admirable  series  of  devotional  works  by  Bishop  Patrick,  Btshop 
Wilson,  Doctor  Sutton  and  others,  which  have  received  the  un- 
qualified commendation  of  the  rhurch.    In  a  letter  received  rom 
Bishop  Whittingham,   he  says,    '  I  had  forgotten  to  express  my 
very  great  satisfaction  at  your  commencement  of  a  series  of  devo- 
tional works,  lately  re  published  in  Oxford  and  London."    Again, 
Bishop  Doane  says  ol  this,  '•  I  write  to  express  my  thanks  to  you  for 
reprints  of  the  Oxford  books ;  first,  for  reprinting  such  books,  and  se- 
condly,  in  such  a  style  I  sincerely  hope  you  may  be  encouraged  to 
go  on,  and  give  them  all   to  us.    You  will  dignify  the  art  of  print- 
ing, and  you  will  do  great  service  to  the  best  interests  of  the  coun- 
try."   The  undersigned  also  beg  to  refer  to  their  beautiful  edition 
of  the  Poetical  Works  of  Soutiiey,  also  to  that  excellent  series  of 
M  Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children,"  by  Mary  Howitt  and 
ohters,   and   to  that  extensive  series  of  popular  works  for  general 
reading,  uniting  an  interesting  style  with  soundness  of  Christian 
principle,  such  as  the   works  of  Archbishop    Magee,   Guizot, 
John    Angell    James,  Miss  Sinclair,  Rev.    Robert    Philip, 
Rfcv.   Augustus    Wm.   Hare,    Jno.    Pye    Smith,     Frederick 
Augustus  Schlegel,  Isaac  Taylor,  Dr.  VV  C  Taylor,  Rev. 
Dr.  Sprague,    &c.    &c.      They  also  publish  those  very  popular 
_<  s  and   Travels  by  Rev.  H.  Southgate,   cf  the  Episcopal 
.   and  Fitch  \V.  Taylor,   together  with    the    Memoirs  of 
General  Alexander  Hamilton  by  his  son;    and  will  continue 
to  publish  standard  and  popular  works,  and  trust  to  merit  a  con- 
tinuance of  public  favour. 

D.  APPLETON  &  Co. 
Emjr  ■  I  Literature, 

i     >RK. 

'jT  !>■  A.  fc  Co.'s  Catal  igue  of  English  Books  (critical   and 
explanatory;  will  shortly  be  ready  for  delivery. 


O- 


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New  Works  and  New  Editions 


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SCHLEGEL'S  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY, 

The  Philosophy  of  History,  in  a  course  of  Lectures  delivered  at 
Vienna,  by  Frederick  Von  Schlegel.  translated  from  the  Ger- 
man, with  <i  Memoir  of  the  author,  by  J.  B.  Robertson.  Hand- 
somely printed  on  fine  paper.    2  vols.  12mo. 

"  To  do  a  mere  reviewer's  justice  to  such  a  work  would  require  many  numbers 
of  our  journal.  It  is  quite  unnecessary  to  do  more  than  direct  attention  lo  a 
production  which,  beyond  all  others,  has  contributed  lo  exalt  and  purify  modern 
science  and  literature — a  work  to  which,  in  the  eloquent  words  of  a  great  man, 
*  we  owe  the  attempts  at  least  to  turn  philosophy's  eye  inward  on  the  soul,  and  to 
compound  the  most  sacred  elements  of  its  spiritual  powers  with  the  ingredients 
of  human  knowledge.'  '"—Literary  Gazette. 

THE   NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  SOCIETY, 

IN    THE   BARBAROUS    AND    CIVILISED    STATE, 

An  Essay  towards  discovering  the  Origin  and  Louise  of  Human 
Improvement.  By  W.  Cooke  Taylor,  JLL.I).,  &,c  ,  of  Trinity 
College,  Dublin.  Handsomely  printed  on  fine  paper.  2  vols. 
12  mo. 

"  A  most  able  work,  the  design  of  which  is  to  determine  from  an  examination 
of  the  various  forms  in  which  society  has  heen  formed,  what  was  the  origin  of 
civilization,  and  under  what  circumstances  those  attributes  of  humanity,  which  in 
one  country  become  the  foundation  of  >ocial  happiness,  and  in  another  perverted 
to  the  production  of  general  misery.  For  this  purpose  the  author  has  separately 
examined  the  principal  elements  by  which  society,  under  all  its  aspects,  is  held 
together,  and  traced  each  to  its  source  in  human  nature.  He  has  then  directed 
attention  to  the  development  of  these  principles,  and  pointed  out  the  circum- 
stances by  which  they  were  perfected  on  the  one  hand,  or  corrupted  on  the 
other."  i 

"  We  perceive  by  the  preface  that  the  work  has  had  throughout,  the  superin- 
tendence ofthe  very  learned  Archbishop  YYhately."  —New-York  American. 


CARL, IE  ON  HISTORY  AND  HEROES. 

HERO,  HERO-WORSHIP.  AND  THE  HEROIC  IN  HISTORY. 

Six  Lectures,  reported  -with,  emendations  and  additions. 
By  Thomas  Carlyle,  author  of  the  "  French  Revolution,''  "Sar- 
or  Resartus,"  &c. 
Contents — The  Hero  as  Divinity,  Odin,  Paganism,  Scandinavian  Mythology, 
The  Hero  as  Prophet,  Mahomet,  Islam  ;  The  Hero  as  Poet,  Dante,  Shakspeare; 
The  Hero  as  Priest,  Lutber,  Reformation,  Knox,  Puritanism  ;  The  Hero  as  Man 
of  Letters,  Johnson,  Itossrau,  Burns;  The  Hero  as  King,  Cromwell,  Napoleon, 
Modei  u  Rt-voiut  onism. 

1  vol.  lw2mo.,  beautifully  printed  on  fine  white  paper. 


THOUGHTS  IN  PAST  YEARS : 

A  beautiful  collection  of  Poetry,  chiefly  Devotional.    By  the  Au- 
thor of  the  Cathedral.     1  vol.  royal  lOmo.  elegantly  printed. 


Q- 


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Published  by  D.  Appleton  S?  Co.  3 

MEDITATIONS  ON  THE  SACRAMENT. 

Godly  Meditations  upon  the  most  Holy  Sacrament  of  the  Lorl'g 
Supper.  By  Christopher  Sutton,  D  I).,  late  Prebend  of  West- 
minster.   1vol.  royal  16mo.,  elegantly  ornamented. 

LEARN  *T0  DIE. 

Disce  Mori,  Learn  to  Die,  a  Religious  Discourse,  moving  every 
Christian  man  to  enter  into  a  serious  remembrance  of  his  end. 
liy  Christopher  Burrow,  D  D,,  sometime  Prebend  of  West- 
minster.   I  vol.  16mo,  elegantly  ornamented. 

SACRA   PRIVATA: 


Private  Meditations,  Devotions  and  Prayers 
Of  the  Right  Rev    T.Wilson,   D.  D.,  Loid  Bishop  of  Soder  and 
Man.    First  complete  edition.     1  vol.  royal  16mo.,  elegantly  or- 
namented.   First  complete  edition. 

A  Discourse  Concerning  Prayer 

And  tiie  Frequenting  Daily  Public  Prayers.  By  Simon  Patrick, 
D.D.,  sometime  Lord  Bishop  of  Fly.  Edited  by  Francis  E. 
Paget.  M  A  ,  Chaplain  to  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Oxford.  1  vol. 
royal  lGino.,  elegantly  ornamented. 

HEART'S  EASE: 

Or  a  Remedy   against  all   Troubles  ; 

WITH    A 

Consolatory  Discourse, 

Particularly  addressed  to  those  who  liave  lost  their  friends  and  dear 
relations.     Bj  Simon  Paihmk,  1)1).,  sometime  Lord  Bishop  of 
1  vol.  royal  lonio.,  elegantly  ornamented. 

SCIIiniRE  und  GEOLOGY. 

On  til-  -  the  Holy   Scriptures  and    Mine  parti 

of  G  :ii,   D.I)  ,   author  of 

the  Scripture  Tcttiiuonj  i  vol.  12mo. 

6 1 


O ! 

4  New  Works  and  New  Editions 

TOUR  THROUGH  TURKEY  and  PERSIA. 

Narrative  of  a  Tour  through  Armenia,  Kurdistan,  Persia,  and  Meso- 
potamia, with  an  Introduction  and  Occasional  Observations 
upon  the  Condition  of  Mohammedanism  and  <  hristianity  in  those 
countries.  By  the  Re  v.  Horatio  Southgate,  Missionary  of 
the  American  Episcopal  Church.    2  vols.  12mo.  plates. 

Magee  on  Atonement  and  Sacrifice. 

Discourses  and  Dissertations  on  the  Scriptural  Doctrines  of  Atone- 
ment and  Sacrifice,  and  on  the  Prim  ipal  Arguments  advanced, 
and  the  Mode  of  Reasoning  employed,  by  ihe  Opponents  of  those 
Doctrines,  as  held  by  the  Established  Church.  By  the  late  Most 
Rev.  William  Magee,  D.  D.,  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  2  vols, 
royal  8vo.,  beautifully  printt  d. 

SOUTHEY'S   POETICAL  WORKS. 

The  complete  collected  edition  of  the  Poetical  Works  of  Robert 
Southey,  Esq.,  LL.D  .  edited  by  himself.  Printed  verbatim 
from  the  ten  volume  London  edition.  Illustrated  with  a  fine  por- 
trait and  vignette.     I  vol.  royal  8vo. 

"  The  beauties  of  Mr.  Southey's  Poetry  are  such  that  this  collected  edition  can 
hardly  fail  to  find  a  place  in  the  Library  ol  every  person  fond  of  elegant  l:tera- 
tuae. "—Eclectic  Review. 

"  Southey's  principal  Poems  have  been  long  before  the  world,  extensively  read, 
and  highly  appreciated.  Their  appearing  in  a  uniform  edition,  with  the  author's 
final  corrections,  will  afford  unfeigned  pleasure  to  those  who  are  married  to  im- 
mortal verse." — Literary  Gazette. 

"  this  edition  of  the  works  of  Southey  is  a  credit  to  the  press  of  our  country." 
— JY.  A.  Keview. 

GUIZOT'S  HISTORY  of  CIVILIZATION. 

General  History  of  Civilization  in  Europe,  from  the  Fall  of  the  Ro- 
man  Empire  to  the  French  Revolution.  Translated  from  the 
French  of  M  GU1ZOP.  Professor  of  History  to  la  Faculte  des 
Leltres  of  Paris,  and  Minister  of  Public  Instruction.  2d  Ameri- 
can, from  the  last  London  edition.     1  vol.    12mo. 

BICKERSTETH'S  COMPLETE  WORKS. 

The  Works  o'  the  Rev.  Edward  Bickersteth,  Rector  of  Man- 
ton,  Hertfordshire,  containing  Scripture,  Help  Treatise  on  Pray- 
er, the  Christian  Hearer,  the  Chief  concerns  of  Man  lor  Time  and 
Eternity,  Treatise  on  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  the  Christian  Stu- 
dent.    I  vol.  8vo. 


Q- 


Published  by  D.  Appleton  8?  Co. 


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THE  LIFE  OF  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON. 

Edited  by  liis  son,  John  C.   Hamilton.    S  vols,  royal  8fo. 

'    We  cordially  recommend  the  perusal  and  diligent  study  of  these  volumes,  ex- 
hibiting, as  they  do.  much  valuable   matter  relative  to  the  Revolution,  tl  • 
lishraent  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  and  other  important  events  in  the  annals 
of  our  country. "— Aetc-l'oK-  JZ 


SCOTLAND  and  the  SCOTCH; 

OR,    THE    WESTERN    CIRCUIT. 

By  Catherine  Sinclair,  author  of  Modern  Accomplishments, 
Modern  Society,  Ace.  <Scc.     1  vol.  1-Jnio. 

SHETLAND  and  Hie  SHETLANDEES; 

OR,  THE  NORTHERN  CIRCUIT. 

By  Catherine  Sinclair,  auth  r  of  Scotland  and  the  Scotch,  Ho- 
liday House,  6tc.  ice.     1  vol.  12mo. 

THE  METROPOLITAN  PULPIT; 

Or  Sketches  of  the  most  Popular  Preachers  in  London.  By  the 
author  of  Random  Recollections,  The  Great  Metropolis.  &.c.  &c. 
1  vol.  ISma. 

HARE'S  PAROCHIAL  SERMONS. 

Sermons  to  a  Country  Congregation.  By  Augustus  William 
Hare,  A.M  ,  late  Fellow  of  New  College  and  Rector  of  Alton 
Barnes.     1  vol.  royal  8vo. 

"  Any  one  who  can  be  pleased  with  delicacy  of  thought  expressed  in  the  most 
vngxMMge — any  one  who  can  feel  the  charm  'ical  duties  elu- 

cidated and  enforced  by  apt  and  varied  illustrations — will  be  delighted  with  this 
▼oluine,  which  presents  us  with  lue  workings  of  a  pious  and  highly  gifted  mind." 
— Quarterly  Review, 

Williams's  Missionary  Enterprises. 

itonary  Enterprises  and  Triainphi  in  the 

-    with  Remarki  upon  the  .Natural  History  of  the  I- 
.  I'radition  am  e  Inhabitant! 

the  London  .v  -  wiety. 

Numerous  plates.     1  vol.  large  13mo« 


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New  Works  and  New  Editions 


THE  FLAG  SHIP : 

Or,  a  "Voyage  Round  the  World, 

In  the  United  States  Frigate  Columbia  attended  by  her  consort,  the 
Sloop  of  War  John  Adam-,  and  bearing  the  broad  pennant  of 
Commodore  George  C.  Read.  By  Fitch  W.  Taylor,  Chaplain  to 
the  Squadron.    2  vols.  12iuo.  plaies. 

ELLA    V- 


Or  the  July  Tour.     By  one  of  the  Party.      1  vol.  12mo. 
"  He  can  form  a  moral  on  a  glass  of  champagne." — Le  Roy. 

Missionary's  Farewell. 

By  the  Rev.  John  Williams,  author  of  Missionary  Enterprises, 
&c.    1  vol.  18mo. 


A  Collection  of  Church  Music.    Edited  by  George  Kingsley, 

author  of  Social  Choir,  &c.         * 

"  This  collection  is  pronounced  b}'  the  most  eminent  professors  to  be  superior 
to  any  published  in  the  country." 

Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life. 

By  Isaac  Taylor,    author  of  Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm. 
Third  edition.    1  vol.  12mo. 

By  Isaac  Taylor,  author  of  Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm,  &c. 
&c.    Second  Edition.    1  vol.  12mo. 

Limitations  of  Human  Responsibility. 

By  Francis  Wayland,  D.D.    Second  edition.    1  vol.  18mo. 

The  Principles  of  Diagnosis. 

By  Marshall  Hall,  M.D.  F.R  S.,  &c.  Second  edition,  with  many 
"improvements,  by  Dr.  John  A.  Swett.    1  vol.  Svo. 


O" 


Published  by  D.  Appleton  cS'  Co. 


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WORKS  BY  THE  REV.  ROBERT  PHILIP. 

THE   LIFE  AND   OPINIONS  OF  DR.   MILNE, 

MISSIONARY   TO    CHINA. 

Illustrated  by  Biographical  Annals  of  Asiatic  Missions  from  Primi- 
tive to  Protestant  Times,  intended  as  a  Guide  to  Missionary  Spirit. 
By  Robert  Philip.     1  vol.  I&mo. 

THE   LIFE  AND   TIMES  OF  JOHN    BUNYAN, 

Author  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  By  Robert  Philip.  With  a  fine 
portiait.     1  vol.  12mo. 

LADY'S    CLOSET    LIBRARY, 

as  follows: 
THE  MARYS; 
Or  Beauty  of  Female  Holiness.   By  Robert  Philip.    1  vol.  18mo. 

THE   MARTHAS  ; 
Or  Varieties  of  Female  Piety.    By  Robert  Philip.    1  vol.  18mo. 

THE   LYDIAS; 
Or  Development  of  Female  Character.    By  Robert  Philip.    1 
vol.  18mo. 

DEVOTIONAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  GUIDES, 

By  Robert  Phili:-.  With  an  Introductory  Essay  by  Rev.  Albert 
Barnes.    2  vo.s.  12mo.    Containing 
Guide  to  the  Perplexed. 
Do        do  Devotional. 
Do        do  Thoughtful. 
Do        do  Doubting. 
Do        do  Conscientious. 
Do        do  Redemption. 

YOUNG   MANS   CLOSET  LIBRARY. 

By  Robert  Philip   With  an  Introductory  Essay  by  Rev.  Albert 

Barnes.    1  vol.  12mo. 

LOVE  OF  THE  SPIRIT, 
Traced  in  his  WTork  :    a  Companion  to  the  Experimental  Guides. 

By  Robert  Philip.     1  vol.  18mo. 

Shortly   will   be   Published, 

THE  HANNAHS, 

Beine  a  continuation  of  the  Lady's  Closet  Library,  forming  the 
aaj  portion  of  the.  series. 

6 o 


o — o 

8  New  Works  and  New  Editions 

WORKS   BY   THE   REV.   JOHN   A.   JAMES. 
Pastoral  Addresses: 

By  Rev.  John  Angell  James.  With  an  Introduction  by  the 
Rev.  Wm.   Adams.     1  vol.  18mo. 

Contents. — The  increased  Holiness  of  the  Church.  Spirituality  of  Mind.  Hea- 
venly Mindedness.  Assurance  of  Hope.  Praciical  Religion  wisest  in  every  thing. 
How  to  spend  a  Profitable  Sabbath.  Christian  Obligations.  Life  of  Faith.  Influ- 
ence of  Older  Christians.  The  Spirit  of  Prayer.  Private  Prayer.  Self-Examin- 
ation. 

THE  YOUNG   MAN   FROM   HOME. 

In  a  series  of  Letters,  especially  directed  for  the  Moral  Advancement 
of  Youth  By  the  Rev.  John  Angell  James.  Fifth  edition. 
1  vol.  18mo. 

The  Anxious  Enpirer  after  Salvation 

Directed  and  Encouraged.  By  Rev.  John  Angell  James.  1  vol. 
18mo. 

The  Christian  Professor. 

Addressed  in  a  series  of  Counsels  and  Cautions  to  the  Members  of 
Christian  Churches.  By  Rev.  John  Angell  James.  1  vol. 
18mo. 

Happiness,  its  Nature  and  Sources. 

By  Rev.  John  Angell  James. 

THE  WIDOW  DIRECTED 

To  the  Widow's  God.    By  Rev.  John  Angell  James. 


DISCOURSES  ON  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

Select  Discourse*  on  the  Functions  of  the  Nervous  System,  in  oppo- 
sition to  Phrenology,  Materialism  and  Atheism  ;  to  which  is  pre- 
fixed a  Lecture  on  the  Diversities  of  the  Human  Character,  aris- 
ing from  Physiological  Peculiarities.  By  John  Augustine 
Smith,  M.D.    1  vol.  12mo. 


Thoughts  in  Affliction. 

By  the  Rev.  A.  S.  Thelwall  A.M.  To  which  is  added  Bereaved 
Parents  Consoled,  by  John  Thornton,  with  Sacred  Poetry. 
1  vol.  32mo. 

o 6 


Published  by  D.  Applet  on  8?  Co. 


WORKS   BY   THE    REV.  D  R  f   SPRAGUE. 
True  ami  False  Religion. 

Lectures  illustrating  the  Contrast  between  True  Christianity  and 
various  other  systems.  By  William  B  Sprague,  D.D.  1  vol. 
V2mb. 

Lectures  on  Revivals 

In  Religion.     Tiy  \V.  I».  Sprague,  D.D.    With  an  Introductory 
iy  by  Leonard  Woods,  D.D.     lvol.l2mo. 

Letters  to  a  Daughter, 

On  Practical  Subjects.  By  W.  B.  Sprague,  D.D.  Fourth  edi- 
tion, revised  and  enlarged.    1  vol.  12mo. 

Lectures  to  Young  People. 

By  W.B.  Sprague,  D.D.  With  an  Introduciory  Address  by  Sam- 
uel .Miller,  D.D.    Fourth  edition.     1  vol.  12mo. 


Co 


MY  SON'S   MANUAL. 
tmprisinir  a  Summary  View  of  the  Studios,  Accomplishments,  and 
Principles  of  -Conduit,   best  suited  tor  P<omoting   Respectability 
and  Success  in  Life.  Elegantly  engraved  frontispiece.  I  vol.  18mo. 


MY   DAUGHTER'S   MANUAL. 

Comprising  a  Summary  View  of  Female  Studies,  Accomplishments 

and  Principles  of  Conduct.    Beautiful  frontispiece.    1  vol.  18mo. 

GRIFFIN'S  REMAINS. 

Remains  of  the  Rev.  Edmund  D.  Griffin.     Compiled  by  Francis 
Griffin.    With  a  Memoir  by  Rev.  Dr.  McVicar.    2  vols.  8vo. 


HODGE  ON  THE  STEAM-ENGINE. 

The  Steam  Engine,  its  Origin  and  Gradual  improvement  from  the 
i  m'-  of  Hero  to  the  present  day,  as  adapted  to  Manufacture  - 
eomotion  and  Navigation.    Illustrated  with  forty-eight  plates  in 
full  detail,  numerous  wood  cuts,  fee.    By  Paul  EL  Bodge,  < 
1  vol.  folio  of  p  ates  and  letter-press  in  8vo. 

tit  work  the  best  Western  Bad  Eastern  machinery,  as  applied  to  i 

(ether  with  the  ntry  and 

•  til,  forming  the  i..  tical  uian 
ever  pu1,. 


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10  New  Works  and  New  Editions 

APPLETON'S   TALES    FOR    THE    PEOPLE 

And  their  Children. 

The  greatest  care  is  taken  in  selecting  the  works  of  which  the 

collection  is  composed,  so  that  nothing  either  mediocre  in  talent, 

or  momoral  in  tendency,  is  admitted.    Each  volume  is  printed 

in  the  finest  paper,  is  illustrated  with  an  elegant  frontispiece, 

and  is  bound  in  a  superior  manner,  tastefully  ornamented. 

The  following  have  already  appeared  uniform  in  size  and  style  : 

WHO  SHALL    BE   GREATEST?     A  Tale  :  by  Mary  How- 

itt.     1  vol.  18mo.,  plates. 

"  The  great  moral  lesson  inculcated  by  this  book  is  indicated  by  its  title  ;  and 
•while  it  is  prominent  enough  through  the  whole  volume,  it  comes  out  at  the 
close  with  most  impressive  effect.  We  need  not  say  it  is  a  lesson  which  every 
human  being  is  the  wiser  and  the  belter  for  learning.  We  cordially  recom- 
mend the  work  to  all  who  would  desire  to  form  a  sober  and  rational  estimate 
of  the  world's  enjoyments." — Albany  Evening  Journal. 

SOWING  AND  REAPING  :  or  What  will  Come  of  It?  by 
Mary  Howitt.     1  vol.  18mo.,  plates. 

"We  commenced  it  with  the  intention  of  just  looking  it  over  for  the  pur- 
pose of  writing  a  cursory  notice  ;  but  we  began  to  read,  and  so  we  went  on 
to  the  finis.  It  is  very  interesting :  the  characters  are  full  of  individuality. " — 
New-Bedford  Mercury. 

STRIVE  AND  THRIVE  :  a  Tale  by  Mary  Howitt.  1  vol. 
18mo.,  plates. 

"  The  mere  announcement  of  the  name  of  the  authoress,  will  doubtless 
bring  any  of  her  productions  to  the  immediate  notice  of  the  public  ;  but 
Strive  and  Thrive  is  not  a  book  for  children  only,  but  can  be  read  with 
pleasure  and  advantage  by  those  of  a  more  mature  age.  It  fully  sustains  the 
reputation  of  its  predecessors.  The  style  is  easy  and  flowing,  the  language 
chaste  and  beautiful,  and  the  incidents  of  the  tale  calculated  to  keep  up  the 
interest  to  the  end. — New-York  Courier  Sf  Enquirer. 

HOPE  ON,  HOPE  EVER:  or  the  Boyhood  of  Felix  Law  :  by 
Mary  Howitt.     1  vol.  18mo. 

"  A  very  neat  volume  with  the  above  title,  and  the  farther  annunciation 
that  it  may  be  called  Tales  for  the  .People  and  their  Children,  has  been  written 
by  Mary  Howitt,  whose  name  is  so  favourably  known  to  the  reading  com- 
munity." 

"  This  volume  like  all  others  that  emanate  from  the  pen  of  this  lady,  is  ex- 
tremely interesting  ;  the  characters  are  naturally  drawn,  while  the  feeling  and 
passion  displayed^  give  the  work  a  higher  rank  than  is  usually  allotted  to 
Nursery  Tales." — Commercial  Advertiser. 

THE  LOOKING  GLASS  FOR  THE  M I  N  D  :  or  Intellectu- 
al Mirror,  being  an  elegant  collection  of  the  most  delightful 
little  stories  and  interesting  tales  :  chiefly  translated  from  that 
much  admired  workL'ami  des  Enfans  ;  with  numerous  wood 
cuts— the  twentieth  edition.     1  vol.  18mo. 

The  stories  here  collected  are  of  a  most  interesting  character,  since  virtue  is 
constantly  represented  as  the  fountain  of  happiness,  and  vice  as  the  source  of 
every  evil— as  a  useful  and  instructive  Looking  Glass,  we  recommend  it  for  the 
instruction  of  every  youth,  whether  Miss  or  Master  ;  it  is  a  mirror  that  will 
not  flatter  them  or  lead  them  into  error  ;  it  displays  the  follies  and  improper 
pursuits  of  youthful  hearts,  points  out  the  dangerous  paths  they  sometimes 
tread,  and  clears  the  way  to  the  temple  of  honour  and  fame. 


o 


Published  by  D.  Appleton  S?  Co.  11 


THE    SETTLERS    AT    HOME:    by  Harriet  Martineau. 

1    V*>1.    IfiUlO. 

"  The   circumstances  under  which  tliis  liitle  volume,  for  the  amusement  of 
children,  htts  been  produced,  rive  an  additional  charm  to  its  truth,  simplicity, 
and  feeling.    The  tale,  though  in  one  p&aa&ge  sorrowful  enough   to  moisten 
-    fun  ol  interest  and  character.    The  latter. 

tildren  as  the  former;  and  they  will  take  as 

Lively  an  interest  in  Ailwin'a  ignorant  and  unselfish  fidelity  and  her  stalwart 

arms,  and  in  Roger  Redfurn  the  _  ns  of  better  nature,  as  in  the 

dewektpement  of  the  main  Incident   ot"  the  book,  a  disastrous  flood  which 

ev&statioa  over  the  Isle  of  Axholme  two  hundri  I  years  ago."— Athe- 

I  ■  Mai lineau,  written  to  inculcate  and  illustrate,  by 
practical  examples,  the  truths  ot  political  economy,  will  survive  her  later 
and  more  controversial  works.  So  in  this  little  story  of  the  History  and  ill- 
treatment  of  some  Dutch  settlers,  in  the  fens  of  Lincolnshire— during  the  wars 
of  the  Parliament  because  they  were  strangers,  and  i  ause,  moreover;  they 
interfered  with  the  wild  and  ague-shaken  gunners  and  fishermen  of  the  tens,— 
we  see  again  the  same  shrewdness  of  observation — the  same  real  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  the  humble  classes — the  same  sagacity,  and  occasional  natural  pa- 
thos, which  rendered  the  politico-economical  tracts  so  attractive,  in  despite  of 
their  name  and  subject." — New- York  American. 

EARLY  FRIENDSHIP  :  a  Tale  by  Mrs.  Copley,  1  vol.  18mo., 
plates. 

In  introducing  the  name  of  a  new  writer  to  this  series  of 
popular  works,  the  publishers  cannot  but  express  their  desire 
that  all  who  have  purchased  previous  volumes,  will  buy  this, 
being-  ass  ured  it  will  ommend  itself  to  the  reader  so  that  the 
name  of  Mrs.  Copley  will  soon,  like  the  name  of  Howitt, 
be  a  passport  to  the  notice  and  favour  of  the  whole  reading 
community. 

FAMILY  SECRETS  :  or  Hints  to  those  who  would  make 
Home  Happy,  by  Mrs.  Ellis,  author  of  "The  Women  of 
England,"  "  Poetry  of  Life,"  etc. 

'•  The  tendency  of  this  book  is  one  of  the  best  and  noblest.  The  scenes  and 
characters  are,  it  is  believed,  portraits.  Aiming  as  it  does  at  the  correc- 
tion of  a  too  prevalent  vice — it  is  expected  that  the  Family  Secrets  will  com- 
mand amongst  the  serious  and  thinking  part  of  the  community  as  extensive  a 
populai.  {ickkbydoea  in  its  peculiar  circle." 

PAST  DAYS;  a  Story  for  Children.  By  Esther  Whitlock. 
Square  lsmo. 

"It  is  a  delightful,  instructive  little  book  ;   and  if  the  child,  when  she  closes 
the  volume,  find  her  'eyes  red  with  weeping,'  let  her  not  be  ashamed  ;  one  old 
.  grandfather)  caught  the  &ame  disease  from  the  same  source." 
—Philadelphia   United  State*  Gazette. 


HAZEN'S  SYMBOLICAL  SPELLING-BOOK. 

The  Symbolical   Bpellfng  Book,  in  two  parts.    By  Edward  Ha- 
zkn.    Containing  386  engravings,  primed  <»n  good  paper. 

"  This   work,  is  already   introduced   into   upwards    of  one    thousand    different 
•  ie  of  the  beat  works  published. 

6 0 


o o 

12  New  Works  and  New  Editions 

lafevcr's  Modern  Architecture, 

Beauties  of  Modern  Architecture;  consisting  of  Forty-eight  Plates 
of  Original  Designs,  with  Plans,  Elevations  and  Sections,  also  a 
Dictionary  of  Technical  Terms,  the  whole  forming  a  complete 
Manual  for  the  Practical  Business  Man.  By  M.  Lafevkr,  Archi- 
U  ct.    1  vol.  large  8vo.  half  bound. 

Lafever's  Stair-Case  and  Hand-Rail  Construction. 

The  Modern  Practice  of  Stair-Case  and  Hand-Rail  Construction, 
practically  explained  in  a  series  of  Designs.  By  M.  Lafkver, 
Architect.  With  Plans  and  Elevations  for  Ornamental  Villas. 
Fifteen  plates.    1  vol  large  8vo. 

Keightly's  Mythology  for  Schools, 

The  Mythology  of  Ancient  Greece  and  Italy,  designed  for  the  use  of 
Schools.  By  Thomas  Keightly.  Numerous  wood  cut  illustra- 
tions.   1  vol.  18mo.  half  bound. 

POLYMICRIAN  NEW  TESTAMENT, 

Numerous  References,  Maps,  &c.     1  vol.  18mo. 

By  J.K.Paulding,  Esq.  Illustrated  with  one  hundred  unique 
original  plates  by  Chapman.    Elegantly  bound.    1  vol.  12mo. 


JU3  Preparing  for  Publication. 
LEARN  TO  LIVE. 

Disce  Vivere,  Learn  to  Live;  wherein  is  shown  that  the  Life  of 
Christ  is,  and  ought  to  be,  an  express  Pattern  for  imitation  unto 
the  life  of  a  Christian.  By  Christoiher  Sutton,  D  D.,  some- 
time Prebend  of  Westminster.    1  vol.  IGnio.  elegantly  printed. 

The  Early  English  Church ; 

By  the  Rev.  Edward  Churton,  A.M.  1  vol.  16mo.  With  a  Pre- 
face by  the  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Ives. 


-o 


o 

Preparing  for  Publication.  13 

PALMER'S  TREATISE  on  the  CHURCH. 

A  TREATISE    ON   THE    CHURQH    OF    CHRIST, 

Designed  chiefly  for  the  ita  in  Theology.     By  the 

Rev.  William  Palmkr,  M.A.,  of  Woicester  College,  Oxford. 
Edited,  wiiii  Notes,  by  the  Right  Key.  \V.  R.  Wbtttxngham,  D.D., 
Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  diocese  of 
Maryland.    '2  vols.  Bvo.     Handsomely  printed  on  fine  paper. 

The  Beauties  of  the  Country ; 

ByTnoM.vs  Miller;  author  of  " Rural  Sketches,"  "Day  in  the 
Woods,"  &.c. 

HISTORY  OF  NAPOLEON, 

From  the  French  of  M.  Laurent  dl  L'Ardeche.  With  Five 
Hundred  Illustrations,  alter  Designs  by  Horace  Vernet.  2 
vols.  8vo. 

The  Selected  Beauties  of  British  Poetry, 

With  Biographical  and  Critical  Notices,  and  an  Essay  on  English 
Poetry.  By  Thomas  Campbell.  One  handsome  volume,  royal 
8vo. 

ai?iaa  Ai?®g,sp®2&302« 

From  the  last  London  edition.    1  vol.  lCmo.  elegantly  printed. 

Life  and  Adventures  of  Robinson  Crusoe. 

By  Daniel  Defoe.  With  Three  Hundred  Illustrations  ;  after  De- 
signs by  Grandville.     1  vol.  8vo. 


THE  PHILOSOPHICAL  HISTORY  OF  MANKIND. 

From  the  German  of  Herder. 

Th«-  History  of  the  Reformation  in  Germany.    Bj    Lkopolb  von 

Kanke,  author  of  the  History  of  the  Popes.     Translated  by  Sa- 
rah Austen. 

O 1 -o 


0 ' o 

Recently  Published. 

The   Sacred   Choir: 

A  COLLECTION  OF  CHURCH  MUSIC. 

Consisting  of  Selections  from  the  most  distinguished  authors,  among 
whom  are  the  names  of  Haydn,  Mozart,  Beethoven,  Pergo- 
lessi,  &c.  &c  ;  with  several  pieces  of  Music  by  the  author ; 
also  a  Progressive  Elementary  System  of  Instruction  for  Pupils. 
By  George  Kingsley,  autnor  of  the  Social  Choir,  &c.  &c. 
Fourth  edition. 

B3""  'J  ne  following  are  among  the  many  favourable  opinions 
expressed  of  this  work. 

From  L.  Meignen,  Professor  of  Music,  Philadelphia. 

;    "  G.  Kingsley, 

"  if  it, —  I  have  carefully  perused  Ihe  copy  of  your  new  work,  and  it  is  with 
the  greatest  pleasure  that  1  now  tell  you  that  I  have  been  highly  gratified  with  the 
reading  of  many  of  its  pieces.  The  harmony  throughout  is  full,  effective  and 
correct;  the  melodies  are  well  selected  and  well  adapted;  and  1  have  no  doubt, 
that  when  known  and  appreciated,  this  work  will  be  found  in  the  library  of  every 
choir  whose  director  feels,  as  many  do,  the  want  of  a  complete  reformation  iu 
that  department  of  music.    .Believe  me,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  respectfully, 

"  L.  Meignen." 
From  Mr.  B.  Denman,  President  of  the  David  Sacred  Music  Society,  Philadel- 
phia, to  George  Kingsley. 

"Dear  sir, — Having  examined  your  '  Sacred  Choir,'  I  feel  much  pleasure  in  re- 
commending it  as  the  very  best  collecliun  of  Church  Music  I  have  ever  seen.  It 
combines  the  beauties  oi  other  books  of  the  kind,  with  some  decided  improve- 
ments in  selection,  arrangement  and  composition,  and  commends  itself  U»  the 
choir,  the  pailour  and  social  circle.  Y\  ishing  you  the  success  your  valuable  and 
well-aranged  work  iierits,  I  am,  sir, 

•  "  Yours  respectfully." 

From  the  Committee  of  the  Choir  of  Yale  College. 
~"  Sir,— We  have  been  using  for  some  time  past  your  new  publication  in  the 
choir  with  which  we  are  connected.  We  take  pleasure  in  statiu^  to  you  our  en- 
tire satisfaction  with  the  manner  in  which  it  has  been  compiled  and  harmonized, 
and  would  willingly  reeommend  it  to  any  of  the  associations  desiring  a  collection 
of  Sacred  Music  of  a  sterling  character  and  original  matter.  The  melodies  are 
quite  varied  and  of  an  unusually  pleasing  character;  and  uniting,  as  they  do,  the 
devotional  with  the  pleasing,  we  have  no  hesitation  iu  giving  them  our  preference 
to  any  other  collection  of  a  similar  character  at  present  in  use  among  the 
churches." 

From  Three  Leaders  of  Choirs. 
<*  Mr.  George  Kingsley. 

"Sir,— We  have  examined  the  'Sacred  Choir'  enough  to  lead  us  to  ap- 
preciate the  work  as  the  best  publication  of  Sa>  red  Music  extant.  It  is  beautifully 
printed  and  substantially  bound,  conferring  ci  edit  on  the  publishers.  We  bespeak 
for  the  '  Sacred  Music  Choir'  an  extensive  circulation. 

Sincerely  yours, 

"  U.  S.  Bowdoin. 
"  E.  O.  Goodwin. 
'•  1>.   lngraham." 

O O 


Q < 

EMPORIUM  FOR   STANDARD   LITERATURE, 
English  and  American. 

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Their  Establishment  is  distinguished  by  its  large  collection  of 
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